By the Book

“Complaining that there are too many litfests is like saying there are too many restaurants,” says Vikram Sampath, author of several acclaimed non-fiction titles, including My Name is Gauhar Jaan! and the Wodeyar history Splendours of Royal Mysore, and founding trustee of the Bangalore Literature Festival, the second edition of which runs September 27-29 at the Crowne Plaza Hotel, Electronics City. Excerpts from an interview:

Vikram Sampath

Why a litfest in Bangalore, especially when there are so many overlaps in the rosters here and, say, at Jaipur? Every city hosts a festival that reflects its own unique identity. What works in Jaipur or Kolkata need not necessarily work here, and vice versa. One festival cannot be very different from the other in terms of the programming or the structure, but the essential character is distinct. The BLF, hosted in a city with an educated population and the largest number of Jnanpeeth awardees, is, I think, a welcome addition to the plethora of litfests across the country, from the publisher’s perspective, the author’s perspective and, of course, the reader’s perspective. Its cosmopolitanism is reflected in the rainbow programming and the technology (used in live-streaming the festival on Radiowalla and AuthorTV).
So far as the common names are concerned, well, there are only so many authors in India who will travel everywhere and are articulate as well. But then, we have to see who we are (hosting a litfest) for: We are not doing it for the other authors, but for readers who may not have travelled to Jaipur or Mumbai to meet their favourite writers. There is novelty from an audience perspective.
That said, we have worked very hard to give the BLF content several distinctive features: Apart from the natural focus on Kannada, we emphasise Bhasha and Indian languages, and that is something we will carry into future editions of the festival. Last year, we featured only Kannada, Hindi and Urdu. This time we have nearly 10 – including Odia, Bengali, Tamil, Malayalam, Telugu, Kashmiri, Assamese – besides several sister-languages of Kannada, which don’t have a script, such as Tulu, Kodava, Konkani and an almost extinct dialect called Beary. We’re trying to put these authors in conversation with English (language) writers.

Indian litfests increasingly carry a Bollywood component. BLF features the Bhaag Milka Bhaag team (Farhan Akhtar, Rakeysh Omprakash Mehra, Prasoon Joshi), plus the ubiquitous Gulzar. Why the emphasis on cinema?
There’s no major emphasis on Bollywood or, “celebrities” just for the heck of it, which is the norm elsewhere. Each of these so-called celebrities has a close connection with literature. The BMB team, for instance, will talk about the adaptation of Milkha Singh’s autobiography The Race of My Life into cinema. It is something that seldom happens in India, where biopics generally mean the life of national leaders like Gandhi or Netaji. The subject – the non-availability of the lives of common Indians, artists, sportspersons on celluloid – has intrigued me particularly since there has been a great deal of interest in my biography of Gauhar Jaan.
Plus, we have writers who write on film, not just Bollywood: We have Baradwaj Rangan, who has done so much work on Tamil cinema, MK Raghavendra, who writes on Kannada cinema, Sharmishtha Gooptu, whose area is Bengali cinema.
That said, I have no hassle in admitting that a Farhan Akhtar is a bait to pull in the crowds. The same could be said about Sri Sri Ravishankar. The point is that they aren’t there solely for their celebrity; they actually have written work behind them.

Besides using celebrity to draw the crowds, you’re also trying to catch them young.

With all humility, I’d say this is a USP for the BLF: nowhere else has there been a dedicated attempt to have special sessions (Makkala Koota) only for children throughout the day. We’re working with Pratham Books, Bookalore, Amar Chitra Katha, Kathalaya, Scholastic India and several schools to host creative writing workshops for young writers, slam poetry sessions, literature quizzes besides several other activities.

You say a litfest has something for everyone. The takeaways for the publisher are obvious. What’s in it for the reader? Or even the author?
Talking from a personal point of view (as a reader), I was at the Bath Literature Festival earlier this year, where I met (English novelist) Jim Crace. I’d read (his Man Booker-shortlisted) Harvest, but to hear him speak and then to interact with him was so inspiring for me. His wit and his account of the deep introspection that guides his creative process made me a complete fan. Putting a face to the pen, getting to know what goes on in the mind of a writer, the differences in the creative process for a non-fiction writer, a novelist, a poet or a playwright, that is what interests me.
And as a writer, I’d say this is a job that offers very few perks. Attending a litfest, connecting with your readers, hearing what they have to say about this book or that is one of them. I, for one, take readers’ critiques very seriously. In an era of 24x7 noise, I see no reason why authors should have to maintain low profiles. For the three days at a litfest, you are a star; at Jaipur, I remember a long queue of people waiting for my autograph. On the fourth day, no one will recognise you on the street, but that’s okay!
Litfests, I think, also promote talent. And it inspires people: Of the1000 people who attend, if 100 take to reading and 10 follow through their ambitions to become writers, that’s good enough.

The thoughts and opinions shared here are of the author.