Little Friends of Pongala |
Susan
Oleksiw writes the Anita Ray series featuring an Indian American photographer
living at her aunt's tourist hotel in South India She also writes the
Mellingham series featuring Chief of Police Joe Silva. Learn more about Susan
and her books, view her photographs of India and read an Anita Ray short story at her website.
Readers often ask writers
where our characters come from, and I have to admit that I don’t know. Anita
Ray, the Indian American woman living in her aunt’s tourist hotel in South
India, popped up in a short story. She walked onto the page fully formed.
Anita appeared as a
photographer in the very first line of the first story, “A Murder Made in
India” (AHMM October 2003). She used
a film camera in the first stories but switched to digital later on. She uses a
Pentax, as do I. (I long for a Leica, but I’m realistic—not in the budget.)
A professional photographer
recently pointed out to me that in most fiction the protagonist who is a
photographer could just as easily be a lawyer, a teacher, or anything else. After
the first mention of photography, it plays no significant role in the story.
That comment made me think about how Anita uses photography in her
investigations.
Anita uses the camera to get
close to situations where others are barred. Photographers sometimes have
access where others are denied. In India that may in part be a result of a
generally high regard for artists, but Anita takes advantage of that. She’s
nosy and she uses her camera to get in closer. But she also thinks better when
she’s holding it, as do I.
Fishermen on the beach |
Anita also has a photography
gallery, and this brings her closer to the tourists that fill the hotels and
restaurants along the beaches. She is close to the ground, so to speak, and
knows what’s going on from her fellow vendors along the beach. Anita’s gallery
also gives me a chance to display her “take” on people, Indians and foreigners
alike, especially those who might be involved in a suspicious death.
In Under the Eye of Kali, the first Anita Ray novel, a postcard sent by
an earlier visitor and now posted on her gallery bulletin board turns out to be
a clue to the murder. Anita pursues a particular foreigner on the basis of her
reaction to the postcard.
In For the Love of Parvati, Anita takes a few shots of the corpse she
discovers when she realizes that the man didn’t die a natural death, and no one
else seems concerned about the marks on his wrists and the injuries to his
shoulder and arm.
I’ve been using Anita’s profession
as a photographer in obvious ways that advance the plot, by giving her access
to suspects and a way to record evidence of violent death. But as a
photographer, Anita sees the world a little differently. Because she has done
portrait work, she recognizes shifts in body language—the tilt of a head, the
tightening of shoulders, the nearly imperceptible movement of hands—and reads
them along with the words spoken. She recognizes when a scene has been staged,
or a room reorganized to conceal something. She has strong observational
skills.
Anita also knows that some
of the best photographs are accidents, the ones you take at the last minute
when you’re leaving the market after taking a dozen shots of fish sellers, or while
waiting for the autorickshaw driver to finish his elevenses. She has learned to
look carefully at each shot when she prints out a contact sheet or uploads to
the computer. She studies each photograph for information that eluded her when
she pushed the button. This is how she discovers the identity of a murderer in
a short story, “The Photographer and the Lover” (AHMM April 2005).
For a long time I thought
about photography as an adjunct to writing, a way to get to know India better
so that my stories felt more authentic. But the experience of photography
itself influences the person taking the shot, and can be more revealing than
the story being told. A friend who appraises art once pointed out that my
photographs are much more emotional than my fiction. I wondered about this
until I remembered another rule for writers. Writers are often told to ignore
the censor in their head and just write. Apparently I have no censor as a
photographer, and as a result I reveal more. I look at photography as another
way to tell a story, to get inside a different world. But in truth it’s another
way for me to get my feeling about something onto paper, for others to view.
Working out the role of Anita’s photography in the story is some of the best
fun I have, and I’m already at work on the fourth Anita Ray, where the camera
plays an even more important role.
For the Love of Parvati
In the
foothills of South India a man struggles against ropes tying him to an old
bridge while the monsoon rages and wild animals forage for food. In the valley
below, Anita Ray and Auntie Meena are stopped at a roadblock while their car is
searched.
When Anita
and Meena arrive at their destination, Lalita Amma s household is in turmoil.
During a break in the rain, Anita discovers a body washed into the riverbank.
The police whisk away the corpse and refuse to answer questions.
For the Love
of Parvati brings Anita Ray face to face with a killer determined to exact
revenge for a code of honor broken, a lover determined to rescue his beloved,
and a woman desperate to build a new life.
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8 comments:
Susan,
You do create written scenes with a photographer's eyes. As I've noted in my reviews, your descriptions are a pleasure to read.
Thanks, Jacquie. I do think setting matters. Thanks for coming by and leaving a comment.
Serious photographers, whether amateur or professional are almost always bifurcated. We use the camera to get closer to subjects, to intrude sometimes. At the same time the camera is a shield, a barrier for us, between action and our emotional selves. I think few photographers are portrayed in crime fiction as protagonists because most of what we do is boring, at least, after we leave the scene and to describe it adequately in the narrative would bore most readers. Being a voyeur is exciting and emotional. The challenge then, is to make the culling and editing and examination of revealing details of similar interest.
Well said, Carl. You've described the problem behind the decision of writers to say nothing about photography after introducing the photographer protagonist. But I like the way you articulate the problem. In fact, I may explore this idea in an Anita Ray story in the future. Thank you for commenting.
Oh, what beautiful pictures! And now I have another book to read! Er, books, huh? Ha!
Interesting post!
Thanks, Angela.
My thanks to Lois for hosting me and to all those who read and enjoyed the posts, and of course to those who posted a comment.
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