Dorjee Sun

Do you know Djoree Sun?. Before I even heard him speak, when he delivered the key note address at the recent Asia Education Foundation National Summit in Sydney, which I was privileged to attend, his name alone spoke to me of an unusual person. When I googled his name I learnt it is of Tibetan origin and means 'thunderbolt'. And that is exactly what he is, although he has been variously described as 'international dreamer', 'a social entrepreneur', 'one of the nation's youngest achievers', 'a carbon-trading entrepreneur' and so on.

As soon as he began to speak I realised he was the instigator behind the documentary The Burning Season, which, among other issues, brought the plight of the orangutans to the world's attention.

His many achievements are too numerous to mention here, but listening to him speak confirmed my zeal, that, as writers, whether of screen, theatre, fiction, non-fiction, we can also focus our audiences' attention on 'things that need fixing', and that no subject matter is too hard or too dangerous to tackle.

“The world is a dangerous place, not because of those who do evil, but because of those who look on and do nothing.”
Albert Einstein

Are you in the mood?

Look at the two images accompanying this posting? They were both taken in Cambridge in the recent big freeze at slightly different times on the same day. However, what sort of different atmosphere or mood does each evoke? For me one is warm and golden, while the other definitely has a touch of the Jackson Pollock's! (This is an Australian slang reference to the painting Blue Poles by the artist Jackson Pollock, purchased by the Australian National Gallery at great expense and causing much controversy a few years ago. I think you can see the connection.)

What does each image say to you?

So if, as Martin Gray in The Dictionary of Literary Terms, says: “Mood is a term used synonymously with atmosphere to indicate in a literary work the prevailing feeling or frame of mind, especially at the start of a play, poem, or novel, creating a sense of expectation about what is to follow.”, as writers, how do we achieve the same mood in prose as these images convey?

But we speak the same language, don't we?

Two separate events occurred over the weekend, which led me to think about communication between the English-speaking countries of the world.

The first was when a peer, who was critiquing the extract from my novel, which I am planning to submit for the Advanced Practice Unit of my MA in Professional Writing, remarked that she couldn't understand some of the Australianisms I'd used in this piece of work. So, the dilemma is to find a balance between a prose, which the wider English-speaking community would understand without losing the Australian flavour and setting of this particular piece.

The second event took place at the movies (cinema to some). I went to see the British comedy In the loop with a dinky di Australian friend, who complained that they couldn't understand the Scottish accent and missed out on some of the cultural references.

I realise I can easily move between the two cultures (Australian and British), and, as a bit of a lingist, between a couple of others too. As a languages eductor I aim to bring my students to the point where they can do this too - we call this finding the third place, a zone where you feel comfortable between the two cultures, which may not be the same for everyone. You know which form of language to use, how to behave and what is expected in different situations, but may not feel comfortable taking on board every aspect of the target culture even though you respect and accept it. Some examples, which illustrate this, might be bowing in Japanese culture or visiting a public Japanese bath-house where you are expected to be naked, or to non-Anglos - queueing! These customs wouldn't bother some people but they might others.

So, as writers, how do we bring our readers to that third place?

For a review of the film In the loop, please go to my website