Conversations

Peter Coughlan: Gail, the Chicago Sun-Times described The Hummingbird's Daughter as "a literary gem that does more than soar. It transcends." Your fiction panel obviously agreed, but what would you say about the five finalists as a whole?

Gail Tsukiyama: The wonderful thing about having five finalists is discovering the handful of gems that sparkled among the rest. It also allows us to showcase the rich diversity of authors and books from and about the Pacific Rim and South Asia. I'm quite sure we all felt that this year's finalists all transcended the fictional bounds from which they were writing.

James Rosenthal: I like that phrase, "discovering the handful of gems that sparkled among the rest." The whole judging process is rather like a voyage of discovery.

GT: Yes, I agree. By reading each book, I personally discovered something new, beyond just the strong plots and good writing. These books taught and informed within their stories. All of our fiction finalists, for example, illuminated the worlds they wrote about, whether writing about prisons in Burma, as in The Lizard Cage, or the islands known as the Sundarbans off the easternmost coast of India in The Hungry Tide, or the distinct and powerful characterizations in the stories about China and Hong Kong portrayed in A Thousand Years of Good Prayers and The Train to Lo Wu. Good books have this miraculous way of pulling the reader in emotionally and letting us empathize, criticize, and sympathize with the lives being lived in each story. I believe we all came away seeing the world a little bit clearer after reading each of the finalists. Each provided light and inspiration that reminded us of our common humanity within the different cultural settings.

PC: Everyone seems delighted that we finally have a Latin American book as a fiction winner—and the extraordinary thing is that Luis Urrea's The Devil's Highway was a nonfiction finalist for last year's Kiriyama Prize. That's quite a feat. A double first!

GT: I'm truly delighted that such a talented writer is being honored. We were very aware from the start that we had a strong Latin American contender once we all picked up the book. The Hummingbird's Daughter is really sweeping and majestic in the way it covers Mexico's rich, turbulent history within the complicated story of a young girl who becomes a powerful healer and leader. Luis Alberto Urrea spent 20 years researching this novel, so he must have been writing his nonfiction book, The Devil's Highway simultaneously. It's a testament to his ability as a writer to separate the two genres, and to do them both so well.

PC: Jim, reading Piers Vitebsky's Reindeer People, the nonfiction winner, one marvels at the way Vitebsky, along with his family, braved the harsh climate in which the Eveny people live, and at the way he entered into their lives—and in some ways into the lives of the reindeer too. What was it that made this book stand out in your mind and in the minds of the other judges?

JR: We were certainly impressed with Vitebsky's deep personal commitment to his subject and with the obvious integrity of his research and writing about his experience.

PC: Didn't your judges use the word "seminal" to describe the significance of this book?

JR: To all of us this was clearly an important seminal work on a little-known area and community, but told in a nonacademic, exceptionally readable way. We felt that Vitebsky was really breaking new ground here. We were also taken with the broader significance of this work—the story of how a small, traditional group such as the Eveny has had to cope with tremendous historical forces far beyond their control but affecting them deeply. In their case it was first the imposition of Soviet rule which fundamentally uprooted their traditional way of life, then the collapse of the Soviet Union which left them again in sharply changed circumstances that may now threaten their very existence as a community. We felt that Vitebsky caught this idea perfectly, through the fascinating personal stories of his hosts and his own perceptive observations during years of painstaking research in such a far-off and forbidding land. This book really does fulfill the mission of the Prize: it greatly increases understanding, in an exciting and appealing way.

PC: But I remember you telling me that it was tough for the judges because there were other strong contenders among the finalists?

JR: Sure it was tough. We had an exceptional list of finalists, and we debated long and hard on them. John Vaillant's Golden Spruce is real page-turner, melding brilliant descriptions of the British Columbia rainforest, its people, and the logging industry there with a true mystery story and personal morality tale of man and nature. We had two excellent books on modern Japan. Gail Bernstein's Isami's House is a wonderfully rich and readable study of a Japanese family through 300 turbulent years of Japanese history. A Man With No Talents, by Shiro Oyama, is a striking, intensely personal account of a slice of Japanese life that few ever hear about. And in Crossing Three Wildernesses, U Sam Oeur gives an exceptionally interesting and unique account of his personal experiences under three recent Cambodian regimes—the Lon Nol government, the brutal rule of the Khmer Rouge, and the current Hun Sen regime initially installed by the invading Vietnamese. No wonder we took so long and worked so hard to choose a winner. With this kind of quality, how could it be otherwise? I'll bet Gail and her colleagues had the same problem...

GT: Oh yes, there's nothing like a good "go around" when fighting for your own particular favorite. Boxing gloves are the key to no one getting really hurt! I do think we were exceptionally lucky to be of one sound mind this time around. I've been on other judging panels when it doesn't work so smoothly. We also had an exceptional list of finalists, and we debated each book with lots of gusto and a great deal of humor. I think we all came away having learned something from all the different perspectives we heard, and I do believe it was possible because the finalists were all so strong.

PC: Gail, you are a novelist and you are in demand to speak to people who want to write. You are always interested in spotting and encouraging new talent. Which fiction writers among this year's entries strike you as having particular promise?

GT: Well, certainly our two first-time authors and finalists, Yiyun Li and Jess Row, who both crafted beautiful, powerful collections of short stories. I can't imagine that we won't be seeing more fiction from the both of them in the near future. And then there's Kaui Hart Hemmings, a Hawaiian author and her debut collection of short stories, House of Thieves; Rattawat Lapcharoensap, a new voice from a young Thai-American writer; and Bodies in Motion, by Mary Anne Mohanraj, a series of connecting stories about her Sri Lankan background. Just trying to spell their names right gives you a sense of the cultural and geographical diversity each of these young authors bring to the publishing world. It's a lovely thing to see the world opening up in this way.

PC: Can I ask you whether, either among the nonfiction entries or the fiction entries, any Asian-American or Asian-Canadian writers caught your attention this time around?

JR: I'm sure Gail had a number of these, as did we. One that comes particularly to mind is Vietnamese-American writer Andrew Lam, whose Perfume Dreams really captures the essence of the Asian-American experience. I myself found his account of his return to a rapidly changing Vietnam and his ambiguous feelings about his position there quite perceptive and interesting. Over the years, this has been for me one of the most rewarding things about being involved with the Kiriyama Prize—reading authors like Lam who actually do personify the cross-cultural experience and understanding that the Prize is all about.

GT: It's really such a pleasure to see so many Asian-American and Asian-Canadian writers being published. This year there were a number of new writers, including Kaui Hart Hemmings and Rattawat Lapcharoensap, whom I've already mentioned, and several established writers such as Lisa See and Lydia Kwa who had fascinating books out.

PC: Gail, you have a great deal of experience in meeting and talking with book groups. Is there any novel in this year's entries, whether or not they became finalists, which you would especially recommend for book groups that specialize in fiction?

GT: Yes, definitely. Besides our winner and finalists, there are so many titles of interest for book groups, which I've always believed an important facet of the Kiriyama Prize in itself. It provides book club readers with so many new authors and titles coming from different parts of the Pacific Rim and South Asia that they might not have discovered on their own. Let's see, I would recommend Lisa See's, Snow Flower and the Secret Fan, Jane Alison's Natives and Exotics, Salman Rushdie's Shalimar the Clown, Tash Aw's The Harmony Silk Factory, Hwang Sok-Yong's, The Guest, and The Walking Boy by Lydia Kwa, just to name a few. 

PC: Jim, you have had extensive experience in the diplomatic service, and you have always maintained a keen interest in and contact with many parts of Asia and the Pacific. You described yourself to your fellow judges, humorously but tellingly, as a "policy wonk," a "history buff"! Looking at the list of entries this year, I would guess there is more than enough to capture the imagination and interest of a policy wonk.

JR: I admit to being a policy wonk, although I'm not sure the term is always thought of as flattering. What is a "wonk" anyway? But there sure was plenty of good current political, economic, and foreign affairs material to chew over in this year's nonfiction entries. For example, the controversial book, Mao: The Unknown Story by Jung Chang and Jon Halliday, stirred things up not only in our own discussions but in the literary world generally. Jasper Becker's Rogue Regime about North Korea could hardly be more timely and topical. In Amartya Sen's The Argumentative Indian we get some very profound and useful background about Indian history, politics, and culture from one of the world's leading thinkers. Singapore's Kishore Mahbubani takes the US to task for faulty world leadership—whether one agrees or not, it's an excellent read for wonks and lay people (if that's a proper distinction) alike. I could go on, but the real point is, if you want to be up on what's really happening today in Asia and the Pacific Rim, you could hardly do better than to be a Kiriyama juror.

PC: You also stated there were four or five excellent books that, taken together, offer a remarkable picture of contemporary Japan?

JR: Yes. I already mentioned Isami's House and A Man With No Talents. In addition, we had Japanland by Karin Muller and Notes From Toyotaland by Darius Mehri. Each one of these in its own way gives good insight into contemporary Japan, but taken all together they have a marvelous synergy and give a remarkably sharp picture of modern Japanese society, warts and all. I don't think any of us really realized it at first, reading the individual books over several months. But when we had all finished them, it struck us that we had undergone an unusual and useful educational experience that perhaps even some real scholars and experts in the field don't often get.

PC: And how about large-format books, or "coffee-table" books as they are often—even if somewhat ambiguously—described?

JR: Yes, we had several. The Ganges: Along Sacred Waters by Aldo Pavan is a beautifully done book in this format. We also had an unusual book, The Art of Gaman, by Delphine Hirasuna, that deals with art from Japanese relocation camps during World War II. It's not only good art but it also has an unusually interesting story behind it.

PC: You both had lively teams of judges this year. Jim, I heard that among the members of your panel e-mails were going back and forth faster than ace serves at a tennis tournament. Strong, intelligent opinions freely and vigorously expressed. Great judges! What was it like being chairs of these panels? Nerve-racking? Stimulating? Exhausting? A breeze?

GT: Well, may I start by saying that I had a truly formidable team of judges on the fiction panel this year, four of us working writers and the fifth the chair of a university literature department. I did have a few butterflies starting out, fearing that I'd have to tell Maxine Hong Kingston that she was totally wrong, or contradicting Jim Houston or Gish Jen about their choices, and telling Lauro Flores he didn't know what he was talking about. I don't know about your panel of judges, Jim, but we started out with a minimum of e-mailing. We simply did what all writers do: we put our heads down and read the books. Then, miracle of miracles, we came together for one of the most stimulating, humorous, intelligent conversations I've ever had with a panel of judges! 

JR: Like Gail, I was also blessed with a terrific team of judges. We did do a lot of e-mailing and as a result I think early on we developed an excellent personal rapport and some lively exchanges even though we were still physically separated. It was quite a spirited and highly qualified bunch, a real pleasure to work with. Articulate, energetic, humorous, dedicated, and interesting are a few of the other adjectives I would use to describe them. Too bad they had to put up with only a dull old policy wonk as chair...

PC: I think the jury would challenge your self-depiction there, Jim. "Wise and even-handed, with liberal sprinklings of humor" is the way one of them described your chairing of the panel. By the way, what have you done with all the books you received? Opened a literary salon in the heart of San Francisco? Left them strategically on Nob Hill's famous trams, the Washington Post in-tray, or the back seats of New York taxi cabs to spread the good word about the Pacific Rim and South Asia?

JR: At the moment they are resting peacefully in the middle of the floor in my study, leaving only a narrow passage to my computer and a formidable barrier to the rest of the family including the dog. I plan to keep some for my own collection, give others away to friends and organizations, and keep staring at the rest and wondering how to clear them away...

GT: Like Jim, having been a juror on the fiction panel before, I've run out of room in this house. I've actually had to buy another house in the country in order to store all the books I've received judging for the Prize! At least that was my excuse at the time! The books from this year are still stacked in a kind of maze here, from which I get from the door to my desk and back! Like Jim, I'll keep some, give some to friends and donate the others.

PC: Your words earlier, Gail, about "our common humanity" strike a chord with me. In a comment I offered in the press release we have sent out about the winners, I said: "They entertain, they inform, they move our hearts and minds. These two books bring us a deeper sense of our common humanity, and that is above all what we hope for in books recognized by the Kiriyama Prize."

Do you both feel that the Prize is helping to make that kind of contribution through the books it recognizes as winners, finalists, and notables?

JR: This is the third time I have had the pleasure of being on the nonfiction jury, and I feel strongly that the Prize process has made an enormous contribution in its 10 years. It focuses on the most dynamic region of the world, it gives readers an absolutely up-to-date idea of events and trends taking place there, and it gives well-deserved recognition to authors and publishers that might otherwise be overlooked. Our nonfiction winner this year is an excellent example—this is an important, well-written, and eminently enjoyable book that, as I said before, breaks new ground and has some broader implications for the rest of the world where other small traditional societies are under siege. Our jury is proud of our choice, and I think readers will agree with us.

GT: Jim has taken the words right out of my mouth. The Kiriyama Prize has made a huge contribution to the reading and publishing world.  In the past 10 years, it has opened the eyes of readers around the world and brought recognition to authors and their books that might have been overlooked. It has created a bridge to a region of the world that has been neglected, and at times, misunderstood. The Kiriyama Prize has helped to create a better understanding of the peoples in and around the Pacific Rim. And I do believe that the next 10 years will see the building of more bridges and the growth of the Prize as it reaches more readers through booksellers, book groups, and the Internet, including its website Pacific Rim Voices. It's a very exciting time for all.