The Malta Mediterranean Literature Festival

Maybe you know how to find Malta on a map, but you know (next to) nothing about the Maltese language and even less about Maltese literature. So here goes: yes, Maltese is a language in its own right, spoken by the 371,000 nationals living in the archipelago (i.e. 70% of the current population; the remainder are foreigners, according to the National Statistics Office), and the Maltese diaspora that numbers around 420,000 people. And if you’re wondering what Maltese sounds and looks like, it is written in Roman Script although it is a Semitic language. It sounds like a softer version of Arabic interspersed with a few hints of English and Italian-derived words.

The figures above make it immediately clear that anyone writing in Maltese needs translation in order to be visible on the international literary scene. Translation is vital, it is our bridge to the outside world – without it, Maltese writing would remain confined to our borders. Inversely, the need for international literature to be translated into Maltese is much smaller. This is because English is our second official language, alongside Maltese, and it remains the language most Maltese people read in.

Now that you have a clearer idea of the context, I would like to talk more about the Malta Mediterranean Literature Festival (MMLF) and the week-long translation workshop that precedes it. Before I do that, however, let me point out that this short overview is tinged with quite a few personal experiences, and also that my perspective is an uncommon one, being a perspective of both an outsider and an insider. As someone who moved abroad 26 years ago, my take on what happens in Malta on a day-to-day basis may not coincide with that of someone who lives there. When it comes to my views on Maltese literature, however, I think I can safely consider myself an insider. Firstly, because Maltese remains the language I most often turn to when writing, but also because I still regularly partake in literary projects and events in Malta. Moreover, I have been actively involved in the running of the MMLF translation workshop since 2011.

The Malta Mediterranean Literature Festival is the only international literature festival in the country. It has had 19 editions so far and has grown from a niche event into one of the island’s most important cultural events. At the helm of the festival is a handful of volunteers, writers and/or literary activists who make up Inizjamed – a secular, non-partisan, non-governmental cultural organisation that has been committed to the regeneration of culture and artistic expression in the Maltese Islands since 1998. At the core of the festival, inextricably woven into its fabric, is the translation workshop revolving around our guest writers’ translating each other’s work. The translation process actually starts prior to our guests’ arrival in Malta. Texts are sent to all participants a month or two before the festival; when the workshop itself kicks off, the writers already have draft translations to tweak together before reading/performing them on stage. Anyone who is even remotely acquainted with the throes of translation will immediately grasp how different this process is to sitting behind a desk, grappling alone with a piece of writing. The bridge language during the workshop sessions is English, but being able to sit together, hearing a text read/performed in its original language by the author, feeling its rhythm, catching its tone(s), having the opportunity to ask the author directly what the original intention was that led to a particular choice of word(s) or syntax, endows the final translation with a stronger, richer flavour. After twelve workshops, I can vouch that no two editions are the same. Each year, I am amazed not only by the quantity but mostly by the quality of work that is produced in those few days we spend together. Let me add that most of our guest writers are not professional translators. For some, it is their first attempt ever at translating a piece of literary work, and they may come to the first workshop session with more than a little trepidation. Yet, whatever feelings of self-doubt they may experience at the beginning quickly dissolve as they plunge into their texts together. Each year, without fail, these face-to-face interactions infuse the final translations with energy that takes over the stage – the magic is palpable, albeit difficult to put into words. The effect is all the stronger as we have our guest writers share the stage, meaning that the final translations are read or performed alongside the original texts. These polyphonic readings and performances are another distinctive feature of the Malta Mediterranean Literature Festival, one that is strongly appreciated by our audience.

The MMLF’s contribution to contemporary Maltese literature goes way beyond translation. When choosing local authors for our festival, we make a point of having a fair mix of established names and emerging writers. We offer the latter a chance to share their debut publications with our audience. Providing this platform is far from insignificant, especially in the field of poetry. This is firstly because publishing a debut poetry collection often proves to be no small feat. This is not due to a lack of curiosity or enthusiasm on the part of publishers, but because publishing a poetry book – especially one by a debutant(e) – has unfortunately become a risky investment for them. In addition, Malta suffers from a particularly poor book distribution system. Sad but true, some local literary publications do not even make it to the shelves of mainstream bookshops. If it weren’t for a handful of seriously committed independent booksellers, certain books, however good, innovative and engaging they may be, would never make it into readers’ homes. Over the years, Inizjamed has closely collaborated with these independent booksellers, driven by a common wish to promote new voices and consolidate local literature as best we can. Another beneficial outcome of the MMLF for local writers are the collaborative projects and overseas opportunities triggered through working closely with foreign authors during the translation workshop. Oftentimes, the translated texts are published in online literary journals/anthologies abroad or read in subsequent festivals overseas.

At Inizjamed we also pride ourselves on engaging with authors from all over the globe. Although the word ‘Mediterranean’ features prominently in the name of the festival, it is important for us to also invite writers from beyond this geopolitical space. A few examples are Ma Thida from Burma, Marc Nair from Singapore, Sampurna Chatterji from India and the Tanzanian novelist Abdulrazak Gurnah, who went on to win the Nobel Prize in Literature in 2021. Moreover, we are committed to promoting and celebrating minority authors, be they linguistic, religious, racial, sexual or gender minorities. The same goes for writers coming from war-torn countries or dictatorships where discrimination, sadly, still persists. Thus, the 2022 edition featured the Ukrainian poet Julia Musakovska, just six months after the beginning of the Russian invasion. Last year’s edition featured the Palestinian prose writer Adania Shibli who was meant to receive the LiBeraturpreis at the Frankfurt Book Fair for her book Minor Detail a few weeks later (unfortunately, the award ceremony was called off in the wake of the Hamas attacks on Israel). Another three huge writers from previous editions instantly come to mind. Back in 2013, we had the honour of hosting the late Syrian writer Khaled Khalifa, whose work was more often than not banned in his home country. I also vividly remember the American born British-Libyan writer Hisham Matar relating to a stunned audience, back in 2015, the story of the disappearance of his father, a prominent political dissident of the Gaddafi regime. (Two years later, in 2017, Matar received the Pulitzer Prize for his heartrending memoir, The Return.) Another impactful memory I have is my encounter with the Turkish author, journalist and thinker Aslı Erdoğan who I had the privilege of interviewing in the 2018 edition. What mostly remains of these encounters is the realisation that behind the writing, behind the fiction, there are real stories, real flesh-and-blood people.

Equally important to us at Inizjamed are new forms of writing. In recent years, we have given particular attention to two areas that are still marginal in contemporary Maltese writing. One of these is LGBTQIA+ literature. Although the country has made significant strides in LGBTQIA+ rights (same-sex marriage has been legal in Malta since 2017), repeatedly topping the ILGA Europe Rainbow Index, queer publications and performances are unfortunately still few and far between. Another area in which Maltese literature is lagging behind is spoken word. In an attempt to close this gap, spoken word poetry has consistently been on our agenda in these past few years. A case in point: one of the highlights of last year’s festival was the participation of the renowned British poet, playwright and performer Joelle Taylor, winner of the T. S. Eliot poetry prize for her book C+nto & Othered Poems. Other authors experimenting with spoken word or specialising in it who took part in previous editions include the aforementioned Marc Nair (Singapore), Samantha Barendson (France/Italy/Argentina), Claudio Pozzano (Italy), Nigerian-born UK-based Innua Ellams, Bella Cox (UK) and Eric Ngalle Charles (Cameroon).

Such close contact with these international artists has undoubtedly left an imprint on contemporary Maltese literature, above all on the writers who have taken part in the workshop, but not only. The time spent poring over each other’s work and delving into the stylistic intricacies of the texts helps to form a strong bond among our guest authors. Decoding texts together often leads to sharing personal experiences and helps to get a peek into the cultural, linguistic and literary heritage behind each work. I tend to believe that the impact of these collaborations is even more interesting when authors find themselves battling with a literary style or a topic far removed from their own. By stretching their comfort zone, they automatically also broaden, and therefore strengthen, their own writing skills and strategies. The same goes for young writers who may not have had the chance of taking part in the festival but often attend our activities. Being exposed to innovative literary practices, experimenting with them during our masterclasses and reading or performing their texts at the open mics that Inizjamed regularly organises is definitely leaving a mark on their writing and our literature.

I do believe that Malta’s literary scene – poetry in particular – has been flourishing in the past ten years. There are so many new captivating voices out there, exploring personal topics, but also intent on tackling societal issues and environmental challenges (migration, the systemic destruction of nature, or abortion, which is still illegal in Malta), denouncing corruption or commenting on journalist Daphne Caruana Galizia’s murder. Among my personal favourites are Clare Azzopardi, Miriam Calleja, Elena Cardona, Priscilla Cassar, Leanne Ellul, Claudia Gauci, Elizabeth Grech, Simone Inguanez, Rita Saliba, Klara Vassallo and Loranne Vella. You will have noticed that all these writers happen to be women. That is not to say that there aren’t any male contemporary authors that I admire – there are, and quite a few, most of whom I also cherish as friends. Unfortunately, I don’t have the space here to go into the details of this partisan choice. That’s a topic for another article, but suffice it to say that in naming these women writers, there is a conscious albeit humble attempt on my part to redress a wrong that (mis)shaped the history of Maltese literature for too long – what I would call ‘the female voice as the invisible other’.