Neffens my is it allegearre begongen mei Pim Fortuin, dy opportunist dy’t sa raar oan syn ein kaam troch in kûgel fan Folkert. Massale rou yn Nederlân. Gûlende manlju foar de kamera, dy’t snokkeren dat it fielde as hiene se harren heit ferlern. Oerstjoere froulju, dy’t mienden dat ús lân no oerlevere wie oan linkse hufters en radikale bûtenlanners (lês: moslims). Elk miende omtrint dat de wrâld, of teminsten dat lytse hoekje grûn dat Nederlân hjit, oan dea en ferdjer oerlevere wie.

Lês fierder by Martsje de Jong… Lês fierder

Wat ea heech en hillich it tinken ta timpel hie,
Stiet skots en skean en kâld as stien yn snie.
Rêd waait dûmny’s preekjen wei op winen,
Tiid slacht rimpen poarten ta en blinen.

Lês fierder by Abe de Vries… Lês fierder

Early in The Autobiography of an Execution, David R. Dow meets with a death-row inmate he suspects may not be guilty of murdering his wife, daughter and son. Henry Quaker played piano in church from the age of eight. In prison he has no keyboard but Dow notices him “strumming” the table as they talk. The lawyer, a knowledgeable jazz listener (already he has mentioned Frank Morgan, Teddy Wilson and Art Tatum), compares his soundless playing to Bud Powell’s. Quaker enjoys the compliment and says he misses the piano. Dow continues the conversation:

Lês fierder by Anecdotal Evidence… Lês fierder

Der is in protte dat ik net begripe kin. Nim no dy goes dêr yn de hoofdplaats. Dat bist hie lêst fan kâlde poaten, dat snap ik dan noch, omdat er op it iis siet. Gean sels mar in skoft mei bleate fuotten op in skos sitten, dan wolle jo wol omlyk. Ik ha sels ek guozzen, dy sitte winterdeis ek plat op de grûn. Dat dogge guozzen, sa binne se evaluearre. Wa’t net evaluearre binne: de minsken.

Lês fierder by Ferdinand de Jong… Lês fierder

Hiel nuver is it om te fernimmen dat minsken soms by je komme mei it fersyk om in gedicht te skriuwen, meast in opdracht foar in hiel bysûndere gelegenheid. Oan de iene kant begryp ik it wol; it moat in bysûnder ferwurdzjen wêze fan in bysûnder gefoel, en dat kin fakentiids better mei dichterlike wurden dan sa planút. Oan de oare kant is it fansels in sizzen mei in omwei:

Lês fierder by Ruurdtsje de Haan… Lês fierder

Personally, I’m agnostic about the teachability of “fiction” – though several writers I greatly respect are involved with such programmes, and I applaud their dedication. My former employer, Faber & Faber, also encourages creativity through the Faber Academy, a bold innovation. In Britain, where there is, I think, a preference for the novel that does not advertise its art, the self-consciousness associated with the creative writing course still conditions our response. Good writing, for many English readers is the kind that does not remind you that it is being written.

Lês fierder by The Guardian… Lês fierder