Book Review

The King, the Witch and the Priest: A Twelfth Century Javanese Tale; As told by Pramoedya Ananta Toer; Translated and edited by Willem Samuels; Equinox Publishing, 2002; 127 pp

An English translation of Pramoedya Ananta Toer's Calon Arang, a 12th-century Javanese tale that he retold and published half a century ago, has now seen the light of day.

Originally intended as a reader for junior high school students, the story is nevertheless interesting for adults as well. In the tale, Pramoedya depicts the clash between good and evil, with the final triumph going to the former.

Calon Arang is a witch, notorious for causing misery to ordinary people. She and her followers are feared, because they sacrifice people as offerings to the Goddess of Durga, the Destroyer, so that their magic will become ever stronger.

The witch has a daughter, Ratna Manggali, but no man dares to approach her because of her wicked mother. This makes Calon Arang even angrier. So she casts a spell and causes many people to suffer.

The Goddess of Durga, the Destroyer, allows her to do this on condition that she harms nobody in the capital of the Daha Kingdom, then under the rule of the famous King Erlangga.

However, she ignores Durga's warning because she wants to destroy Daha. In the meantime, Erlangga has been told that only one man can defeat Calon Arang, Empu Baradah.

Empu Baradah has a star pupil, Bahula, whom he asks to marry Ratna Manggali. The marriage takes place and after some time, Bahula, with the help of his wife, finds Calon Arang's secret book. He takes it to his master, giving Empu Baradah the knowledge to defeat Calon Arang.

In a final duel, Empu Baradah kills Calon Arang and peace returns to Daha.

This simple tale makes it clear that Pramoedya's hatred for evil runs deep. Without asking his pupil to marry Ratna Manggali, Empu Baradah would not be able to defeat Calon Arang. Is this the principle that the end justifies the means? One gets the impression that to defeat evil, we may resort to anything, even trickery. The logic may be that evil itself, in the embodiment of Calon Arang, is not fair.

Or, perhaps, the tale may be read as a depiction of Pramoedya's conviction that however powerful evil may be, it must in the end face destruction because it goes against humanity. Perhaps the logic here is that you cannot show humanity toward someone, in this case Calon Arang, who is devoid of humanity.

The conviction that virtue will triumph over evil, no matter how, may have helped Pramoedya survive the ordeals he faced in life. A tale, though retold, must reflect the convictions of the author retelling it, and may be altered according to these beliefs.

Toeti Heraty, for example, wrote an epic poem on the same subject, Calon Arang. But for her, Calon Arang was the victim of male domination and the symbol of women's struggle to break free.

In contrast, Pramoedya's Calon Arang may be seen as a demonstration that wherever evil exists, it must be defeated. If you take pity on evil, then humanity will suffer. Isn't this a common theme in Pramoedya's novels, especially those written while he was exiled on Buru island?

-- Lie Hua

Taken from The Jakarta Post

Book scene something to write about

Bruce Emond, The Jakarta Post, Jakarta

As 2000 passed into a new year, there were no rumblings that anything earth-shattering would happen on the local literary scene.

On the calendar were the regular run of book launchings and the attendant signings and photo ops, although some, such as Ayu Utami's Larung, her continuation of 1997's acclaimed Saman, were much anticipated.

Pramoedya Ananta Toer, the grand old man of Indonesian letters, was feted with the publication of five works, his Tales of Jakarta, It's Not An All Night Fair and The King, the Witch and Priest: A Twelfth Century Javanese Tale, taken from his version of Calon Arang, in English translations and published by Equinox, an exciting addition to the literary scene.

Toward the end of the year there was H.B. Jassin: Harga Diri Sastra Indonesia, a collection of essays by the man once known as the pope of literature for his creative writings, essays and criticism.

Danarto, known in literary circles for his Sufi-themed works, came out with a collection of short stories, Abracadabra, also at the end of the year. In a nod to the power of youth culture and his own exalted place in it, Seno Gumira Adjidarma launched his Kematian Donny Osmond, a cleverly written hodgepodge of stories, commentary, youth-speak and, yes, even a recipe for a favorite fish cake dish!

And then there were the unforeseen but startling developments that livened up the year.

First, there was the Supernova phenomenon, with a book by one third of the RSD singing trio making huge literary waves. There was also the debut of new literary honors, with the handsome cash prizes for the winners showing that authors were finally getting a little respect.

There was also the continued emergence of the bookstore, something rare but much sought-after in the cultural backwater that is sometimes Jakarta, defined as real, quality establishments where the avid book reader could finally find the most recent titles in a comfortable environment.

The year dawned with a hush that led to an almighty bang, with the private publishing of Supernova by Dewi Lestari, using the pen-name Dee. There was the temptation to scoff, to guffaw at the literary pretensions, when news started to trickle out about the singer plugging her new book.

It was Dewi, however, who was to have the last laugh.

Word spread about the revolutionary new book, the tale of a couple of gay lovers searching for their own "supernova" of life. With its pages crowded with basic concepts of modern physics, some called it science fiction, but at its core it is a simple and very conventional tale of enduring love, even if it is between two people of the same sex.

From the literati, some of whom were taken aback and challenged by the unconventional work, to students and 20- and 30-somethings, Supernova became the book to read. On-campus discussions and seminars were held to pore over every word and sentence of Dewi's masterpiece.

"Honestly, I was a bit shocked," Dewi, 25, said in August, when the work was in its fourth print and had sold 48,000 copies, a massive amount for a locally written and published work.

"It was only my dream to have one of my writings published -- that was my dream from the time I was a kid."

Other exciting happenings included Jeffrey Al Qatiri's publication of the tale of Jakarta, told entirely in verse, yet another promising sign of the emergence of a young generation of talented writers, like Dewi and Ayu. The latter's Larung, published in October and tackling some of the most sensitive happenings of the country's modern history, stayed true to the author's tradition of pushing the reader's moral buttons.

Acknowledgement of literary offerings came through the debut of two new awards, the Lontar Literary Award and the Khatulistiwa.

The Lontar Foundation, renowned for its tireless efforts to put Indonesian literature and culture on the international map, inaugurated its award by selecting Celana, a collection of poems by Joko Pinurbo, and Kemilau Cahaya dan Perempuan Buta (The Dazzle of Light and the Blind Woman), a collection of short stories by Gus tf Sakai.

Each of the winning authors received Rp 5 million.

There was also the debut of the Khatulistiwa award, honoring the country's best fiction.

The brainchild of Richard Oh, the owner of QB World Books, the award was intended to raise the image of Indonesian literature and to encourage more Indonesians to read.

Respected journalist Goenawan Mohamad was the winner for his Sajak-sajak Lengkap (Complete Essays), tracing his development as a writer and analyst from the 1960s to the present. He was chosen for the main prize of Rp 30 million from a final list of candidates that included Supernova, Sayap Jibril by Danarto, Kill the Radio by Dorothea Rosa Herliany, Hujan Menulis Ayam by Sutardji Calzoum Bachri and Sampah Bulan Desember (December Garbage) by Hamsad Rangkuti.

It was Ayu Utami who picked up the honor for an absent Goenawan (away in America), showing the ties of solidarity and respect among the older and younger generations of writers.

As further evidence of the growing market for books, Jakarta welcomed a sleek, ultra-modern addition to its range of bookstores, Aksara in Kemang, South Jakarta. Headed by the indomitable Laksmi Pamuntjak-Johan, the author of the Jakarta Good Food Guide, itself a local literary phenomenon in showing that a restaurant guide can become a best-seller when it is entertainingly written, the bookstore shares space with a furniture store and a restaurant upstairs. All so chic and sophisticated, like Ms. Pamuntjak herself.

It was something else for Jakarta's book lovers, following Oh's excellent QB stores located in Central Jakarta, Plaza Senayan and Pondok Indah. Even the venerable Times bookstores in Plaza Indonesia underwent a much-needed makeover to keep up with the competition.

Oh, himself an author and seemingly a fountain of endless ideas about all things literary, also introduced The Jakarta Review of Books, a local guide to books which would be better with some tighter editing. Perhaps, with time.

Still, book lovers caught in the whirlwind of activity of the last year, have no reason to complain. As it stands now, after all the excitement of 2001, we can only wait for what 2002 has in store for us.

Taken from The Jakarta Post