Mel Cooke, Freelance Writer
JOHNSON
WESTERN BUREAU:
LINTON KWESI Johnson does a rare Jamaican reading at the Calabash International Literary Festival, Treasure Beach, St. Elizabeth, tonight, doing the 'Two The Hard Way' programme with Amira Baraka from 9:00 p.m. to 10:00 p.m. The Jamaican-born Johnson, who migrated to the United Kingdom in childhood, has had an outstanding poetry career in performance, on record and in print.
The Gleaner: You went to live in England when you were 11, yet your writing is very strong on Jamaican language. Was it a case that you had established speech patterns before you left Jamaica, or that you went to a community which had very strong Jamaican retentions?
Linton Kwesi Johnson: I arrived in Britain aged 11 years with a Jamaican personality and identity. By the time I arrived in 1963 the Jamaican migrants had already established their Jamaican roots. I grew up in the Brixton area in the midst of a vibrant black community that was largely Jamaican. The racially hostile environment in which blacks found ourselves made us become more self-conscious and appreciative of our roots. Our Caribbeanness became a source of pride and allowed for an independent identity. Language was crucial in all that.
TG: Do you prefer doing your poetry with or without music? And is a book of more significance to you than an album, or do they serve different markets?
LKJ: I am comfortable with and privileged to be able to straddle the literary world of poetry in print and performance, as well as being able to sustain a career as a reggae artist for nearly three decades on the international stage. Both reciting and performing with music are equally satisfying. The idea of recording my poems with music was a means of reaching a wider audience.
I've been able to earn a living through music, but I would not have been able to do that through poetry alone.
TG: Have you ever been to a Calabash Festival before?
LKJ: This is going to be my first experience of Calabash, which my friend and I hope he doesn't take offence me calling him that because I've known him since I was a youth and nurturer, Professor Mervyn Morris, has spoken highly of and encouraged me to accept an invitation if I got one.
TG: Many of your poems have great historical value, as the footnotes in the Penguin collection attest to. When you started writing, was the intention to record significant events moreso than crafting poems along the lines of similes, metaphors and such the like? And if the emphasis is on information and opinion, do you think it weakens a poem if it is not crafted along the lines that are taught in schools?
LKJ: The question, as you put it, suggests that there is an absence of craft in those of my poems which record significant events. There is also a presumption that crafting means using certain devices of composition we have come to associate with the English canon.
While similes and metaphors are important, they do not exhaust the devices of composition available to poetry, especially if you are writing verse that straddles a tradition of orality and text. Moreover, the aesthetic that informs your question is no longer the dominant one for Caribbean verse. I didn't learn to write poetry at school. Poetry was for me at the beginning a political act. Self-expression was my imperative.
I remember the late Sam Selvon telling me that having no formal training in poetry was an asset in my case as it provided for the possibility of originality and innovation. I had to learn my own craft along the way as I discovered poetry and educated myself about poetry, some of which did not conform to European models. People like Kamau Brathwaite made my generation realise that we no longer needed to imitate the conventions of English poetry, that we could use what we wanted, discard what we didn't and bring something from our folk tradition to bear on our creativity.
TG: Have you ever tried to get your work distributed widely in Jamaica?
LKJ: I've never tried to have my books and CDs widely distributed in Jamaica. I was discouraged from supplying a particular outlet because of their failure to pay me for what they have sold. As far as my records are concerned, I was signed to Tuff Gong in 1979/1980 around the same time as Steel Pulse, when Tommy Cowan was running the label, but neither Steel Pulse's or my records were ever released in Jamaica. I would love to have a book published here and my records available but I don't know where to begin.
TG: Would be willing to give us an indication of the material you plan to deliver at Calabash 2005?
LKJ: I'm planning to read from my Penguin collection, Mi Revalueshanary Fren: Selected Poems.
TG: How did you get into journalism and in what capacities have you worked?
LKJ: I got into journalism and broadcasting by chance. I was a student of reggae in my youth and I would try my hand at writing reviews and doing the occasional feature if a reggae celebrity visited London and I had a chance to get an interview.
Through Jeremy Verity, formerly of JBC, I was introduced to the BBC World Service's Caribbean magazine and I'd do the odd short interview for them. In fact, it was Jeremy Verity who arranged for me to give my first poetry reading in Jamaica when I read on JBC's poetry programme in 1974.
Then I became involved with the Race Today Collective, which provided me with the opportunity to develop by contributing regularly to the organisation's journal Race Today. I became its poetry editor and eventually its arts editor. As a freelancer I've contributed to various publications, including Melody Maker, Times Literary Supplement, the Guardian and Time Out.
TG: Is Inglan still a bitch for Black people?
LKJ: When I wrote Inglan is a Bitch I was writing about the experience of my parents' generation as early Caribbean migrants to Britain.
The decisive intervention of my generation, the second generation, changed Britain. Building on the foundation of political, social and cultural autonomy, we challenged racism in a way our parents weren't free to do.
We've changed Britain. Britain has come to terms with its multi-cultural reality and Caribbean peoples are no longer marginalised as we were when I was a child growing up.
Racism is still pervasive, institutionalised and deep-seated and the struggle for racial equality and social justice is an ongoing one. So in answer to your question, Inglan is still a bitch, albeit one that is less rabid.
TG: Are there any poets in England now who work with reggae rhythms whose work you admire?
LKJ: Jean Binta Breeze is the poet working with reggae whose work I most admire. Of course, she belongs to the group at the Jamaican School of Drama which pioneered dub poetry in Jamaica in the late 1970s.
There is also a younger poet, Zena Edwards, who uses reggae on occasion and, in my view, is a promising talent.
TG: Do you think you will ever return to Jamaica to live?
LKJ: I used to dream of
retiring in Jamaica, because I've never lost the love for my homeland. Nowadays I tell myself that the ideal scenario would be six months in Jamaica and six months in Britain. But I have a few years before I need to make any decision.
