A pen that draws smiles

Pierre Mejlak: Dak li l-lejl iħallik tgħid, Merlin Publishers Ltd, 206 pp.

Writing, like all art, is a craft, and there is nothing better than reading a finely crafted book. But it takes an artist to transform that craft into something more, and that is what Pierre Mejlak has achieved once more with Dak li l-lejl iħallik tgħid.

He has followed in the footsteps of his last book Qed Nistennik Nieżla max-Xita, and released a series of short stories. This time round, the stories are longer, and differ considerably in style. Whereas the others had been almost tableaux in their brevity, these stories are longer and delve deeper into each character.

If one had to find a common theme between these stories, it would have to be women. Each story explores a different aspect of the fairer sex, and the tensions between the opposite sexes. The book reads like a box of chocolates, each story with its own particular flavour. At times Mejlak’s pen draws smile after smile (as in Il-Barranija), and at others he is deeply disturbing (L-Aħħar sajf tiegħek, Amy).

As much as I dislike comparisons, they are inevitable. I admit I missed the broad brushstrokes and sketchy lines of Qed Nistennik Nieżla max-Xita, and some of the stories do feel slightly long-winded. There are times when one feels the author loses focus momentarily.

The stories Riħitu and Kolp ta’ Stat are perhaps the least enticing, and feel like extended sketches.

Yet, there is also a new maturity here, and it feels as if the author is no longer an alert observer with a ready brush, but an integral part of his work. I was happy to read once more Mort naraha, Pa (which appeared in 45, Merlin Library’s anniversary publication), and found its magic has not worn off.

One of Mejlak’s hallmarks is his ability to bring together past and present, foreign and local, into one cohesive whole. His characters use mobile phones, internet and technology without losing any of the timelessness that defines great literary characters. He also handles our bilingualism confidently and glides smoothly from Maltese to English when the occasion warrants it.

It is also heartening to find out that the story Nixtieq ngħajjat lil Samirah has won the European Prize ‘Sea of Words’, making a strong case for contemporary Maltese literature as being of a European standard.

The publication comes in a neatly designed volume, typical of Merlin Publisher’s high standards. However, I am slightly irked that the reviews of his previous book are placed right at the start of the book rather than at the back or on the inside covers. Somehow, to me it feels like a cheap marketing ploy, and it’s a pity to find it in a book that needs none.

Mejlak belongs to a new generation of writers who have ushered Maltese literature into the contemporary arena. Along with many others, he moves away from the heavy-handed dogmatic melodrama of post-colonialism and offers us a new vibrant literature.

Dak li l-lejl iħallik tgħid should be on everyone’s booklist this summer, and will surely transform any summer night on the verandah into something more meaningful.