Beyond the Essay with Monmita Chakrabarti

Monmita Chakrabarti is a writer from Columbus, OH by way of Bengal. Their work can be found in The Audacity, Joyland Magazine, Bending Genres, and Laurel Moon, and Passages North.

Two weeks ago we published their essay on the complexities of identity, family history and language titled “Notes on Myopia”. The essay delves into the significance of names, their translations, and the cultural and historical implications as well as contemplating the limitations of translation and the difficulty of preserving family history amidst displacement and societal pressures.

Tolu Daniel: Thank you for joining us on this edition of Beyond the Essay, I am very excited about the opportunity to discuss the essay further with you. So first, I am curious about a particular idea from your essay that I couldn't stop thinking about. How does the loss of language and cultural heritage impact an individual’s sense of identity and connection to their family history?

Monmita Chakrabarti: Hi Tolu! Thank you for this opportunity. That’s a question I’ve thought about a lot and this essay is kind of an expression of empathy towards “bad diaspora poetry” or “mango tree poetry” that’s written by second generation immigrant poets and has in recent years been mocked as cheesy and fetishizing of the homeland. I’m interested in children of immigrants’ longing for a place in history and desire to know more about the family that they are estranged from, and how this desire often is expressed through cliches because we don’t have solid details or memories to cling to. So yeah, I guess this essay is an exploration of that genre and came out of a place of feeling lost and untethered. 

TD: I am interested in that feeling of loss and displacement. I am interested in the ways it drives you and the choices it leads you towards making. I am also interested in what you particularly think about that genre that you mentioned and the criticisms that have been leveled against members of that community especially in the ways in which they perform their varying diasporic identities.

MC: I think it drives a lot of my intellectual interests for sure. Though I don’t feel a big connection to Bengal, beyond my family ties there, I do feel a big connection to Bengalis who have formed communities and safe places in other parts of the world. That’s part of the reason I loved White Teeth by Zadie Smith. It’s also why I got really into Wuthering Heights in high school, because I was interested in Heathcliff as this foreign, disruptive, and racially othered figure. I also have been working on an essay about the Bengali history of the East End of London and am trying to get funding to go there this summer, as you know. So I think I’m constantly seeking to understand what home, community, and safety means when you are away from your “roots” if that makes sense. 

As for the genre, I have a lot of mixed feelings about it. I think that white people usually reward that kind of writing, and love to see performative self-hatred and diasporic alienation, as well as a romanticized, oriental view of the “motherland.” But I know when I was young I wrote cheesy ass poetry like that and it helped me think about my identity and feel a stronger connection to my culture in the face of assimilation. I don’t think it’s malicious. Rather it comes from a sense of nearsightedness, but also confidence that the minimal perspective you have from your parents and maybe your grandparents (if you are lucky enough to be in regular contact with them) is enough to understand a place. I think there’s also a pressure for writers of color to write “what they know” and that is often the place and the culture where they’re “from.” It is very limiting, and I was thinking about how I really don’t know anything about Bengal. I can only guess, and there is a reason why that is the case, so I wanted to explore those bigger forces of colonial destruction too.  

TD: Since my first encounter with your work, what I have found fascinating the most about it has been its insistence on meaning-making, especially when it comes to understanding your own diasporic identity. And I say this to shine a light on what you just said about the want or need to explore the bigger forces of colonial destruction. How easily is it then to narrow down a specific issue to explore, given the lack of spatial grounding that this identity negotiation work requires?

MC: Thank you so much for saying that. I try very hard to be analytical and thorough when I write so that means a lot. I admire the meaning-making in your work too, particularly surrounding place.

I feel like I never narrow down to a specific issue haha. I think my work explores the intersections of queerness, race, and gender, which sounds like a lot of topics but they’re always inevitably connected by my lived experience, because those aspects of my identity can’t be separated. The lack of spatial grounding definitely contributes to my confusion surrounding identity. Negotiation is a good word for it.   

TD: Thank you so much for joining us on this edition of Beyond the Essay. And more importantly, thank you for being so generous with your answers and contributing to Ellipsis. We can't wait to read more of your work.

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