Author Kasbarian Rekindles Armenia’s Past
by Tom Vartabedian Saturday, Mar. 26, 2011 at 3:00 PM
Modern-day fabulist shows that despite genocide, a culture survives.
Lucine Kasbarian has written about marginalized peoples and cultures.
Her last book, Armenia: A Rugged Land, an Enduring People, was a
simplified compilation on Armenian history for younger readers.
Now, the author has struck the folk tale market with an endearing tale
called, The Greedy Sparrow, which she aptly dedicates to her ancestors
and family. The story was first put to paper by Armenian poet
Hovhannes Toumanian at the turn of the 20th Century.
The story, expressively illustrated by Moscow-based artist Maria
Zaikina, tells of a sparrow who catches a thorn in his foot. As he
asks for help, he sets off on an intriguing cycle of action that
transports him through the Armenian countryside, encountering people
engaged in traditional folkways.
It ends with a surprising twist and conveys moral messages about
greed, selfishness and using one’s judgment.
An interview with the writer reveals some interesting facts about her
new work, book publishing and Armenian folklore in general.
TV: How did you learn of this tale and what made you want to retell it?
LK: Long before I knew who Hovhannes Toumanian was, my father would
tell me this story at bedtime in his family dialect. His grandmother,
Hadji Touma Kazanjian, was a celebrated storyteller in Dikranagerd.
She would recite this tale and other tales from Western Armenia to my
father when he was a child, singing and dancing as she did so.
Toumanian collected stories from the Armenian oral tradition — the
sparrow’s tale included — and wrote them down, many for the first
time. Since we descendants of genocide survivors have few tangible
heirlooms, the sparrow’s tale is especially precious to me. So I
dedicated The Greedy Sparrow to my forebears, great-grandmother and
father. I wanted to retell this tale because it contains timeless
lessons for everyone, not just for children.
TV: Why does your retelling end differently from the popular version
of the tale?
LK: As A.L.M.A. curator Gary Lind-Sinanian will attest, not all folk
tales have a moral to the story. Some were just fantastical,
outrageous or stood up for the underdog. The original tale of the
sparrow contained the same lesson as The Greedy Sparrow, my original
composition, yet I chose to present a variant of this tale — which
was also in the oral tradition — because it most clearly conveyed
that manipulation and dishonesty have their consequences. And unlike
how the tale has been told orally, my version incorporates native
Armenian landmarks to introduce readers to our patrimony. The wedding,
for example, takes place on the island of Aghtamar, a place of great
significance for all Armenians and very much in the news lately.
TV: Tell us about the illustrations.
LK: I gave my publisher an illustrated storyboard and authentic
Armenian images, which our illustrator faithfully followed while
putting her unique stamp on the book. I had suggested the superb Maria
Zaikina to my publisher some time after the Armenian Poetry Project’s
Lola Koundakjian first pointed me to Maria’s folk animations. The
publishers immediately loved Zaikina’s work and hired her.
TV: What significance do you feel folk tales possess? What does this
tale tell us about Armenians and their culture?
LK: Folk tales can touch everyone, regardless of age, social,
educational or economic status. They instill certain values and have
withstood the test of time because of their simplicity, humor, wisdom
and understanding of human attributes. I hope the cultural practices
depicted in the book will show Armenian children everywhere that our
time-honored traditions are highly prized. To address the deeper
implications in The Greedy Sparrow, I’ve created a discussion and
activity guide on my website, lucinekasbarian.com
TV: How did you find a publisher for this tale?
LK: Years ago, I attended a workshop. When it concluded, a book editor
invited me to submit a manuscript proposal I had in mind — and what
eventually became The Greedy Sparrow. She liked my proposal and asked
to see the manuscript. Ten years later, between publicity assignments,
I sent it to her. By then, she had moved to another publishing house
and said folk tales were not popular among — nor purchased by —
major bookselling chain stores for their supervisors to consider it a
worthwhile investment. I received the same response when I sent the
manuscripts to a second editor. His publishing subdivision had
officially ceased producing folk tales because they were not deemed
popular or profitable enough. The third editor, whom I’d respected for
many years, then received my manuscript and acquired it for her
publishing house.
TV: Your first book was published 10 years ago. Why did it take so
long to publish another?
LK: After the collapse of the Soviet Union and around the time I was
writing and editing for magazines in New York, I was asked to write a
straightforward introduction to the Armenian nation, which had
regained its independence after 70 years. That resulted in Armenia: A
Rugged Land, an Enduring People, published by Dillon Press/Simon &
Schuster. I continued working full time, eventually garnering media
coverage for books produced by Hearst Magazines. When I became
Publicity Director for the Boston-based Red Wheel, Weiser and Conari
Press, I was again in charge of seeking media exposure — this time,
for about 60 books a year. With that workload, pretty common for
publicists, I rarely saw my family, let alone wrote for my own
pleasure. I eventually moved back to New Jersey and formed my own
business, Progressive Book Publicity. However, when my mother was
diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, I took an extended leave-of-absence to
help care for her. During this time, my own writing again was not a
priority. However, it’s common that after years of promoting other
peoples’ books, energy develops within a publicist to produce their
own work. Between elder care, a marriage, a new home, and shuttling
frequently between New Jersey and Massachusetts, this book
materialized.
TV: What attracted you to writing and publishing? How does publishing
run in your family?
LK: Well, I come from a family of readers, writers, editors, teachers,
artists and even librarians. My great uncle, Hovhannes Der Kasbarian,
was secretary of the Armenian Progressive School in Dikranagerd who
was slaughtered with other Armenian community leaders during the
Genocide. His nephew — my father Charles Garabed — followed in
Hovhannes’ literary footsteps. Using the penname C.K. Garabed, he has
been a lifelong writer and commentator in the Armenian press, a member
of the Armenian Literary Society, and a columnist for The Armenian
Weekly for the past 20 years. My brother Antranig is a former editor
of The Armenian Weekly and a journalist in his own right. My maternal
uncle, the late Nishan Hamparian, was an art director/ graphic
designer and the principal of St. Illuminator’s Saturday School in
NYC. He was a stickler when it came to proper Armenian language use
and was a great influence on our families. My other late maternal
uncle, Ardash Hamparian, along with my father, were also driving
literary forces in our family. Uncle Ardash was a book production guru
who had worked at most of the major book publishers in NYC. He also
handled book production for the Armenian Prelacy and received the St.
Mesrob Medal from Catholicos Karekin 1 for his lifetime contributions
at Armenian publishing. His sons — my cousins — Aram and Raffi
Hamparian of the ANCA are frequent contributors to the Armenian press.
Ardash’s daughter Lorig Hamparian (also a cousin) is a school
librarian. Nishan’s daughter Anahid Hamparian (another cousin) is an
award-winning art director at the very publishing house where The
Greedy Sparrow was published, though she does not influence book
acquisitions. I also married a writer — investigative journalist
David Boyajian.
TV: What did you read when you were growing up?
LK: One of the first books Mairig read to us was a volume of Armenian
history and legends she purchased in 1958 from the Mekhitarist Fathers
in Venice. It was written by Father Vahan Hovanessian and titled
Badmoutiun Hayots. I still think it’s one of the best, most clearly
written Western Armenian-language history books of its kind for
children. Even as a child and still as an adult, I wish there were
more Armenian folk tales available – either in simple Armenian or
English. Today, many Armenian folk tales can be read in Western
Armenian, thanks to Matig Ebligatian, who established the Cilicia
Publishing House in Haleb in the 1980s.
TV:What role does the Armenian press play in your career?
LK: Like many families around us, our household received the
English-language community newspaper, the Armenian Weekly. Growing up,
the very first item I’d read was the humorous column, `Poor Tom’s
Almanac.’ Recognize it? I eventually contributed to this paper’s youth
page when I joined the A.Y.F., and have submitted articles to the
Armenian Weekly over the years. The paper has given young writers
including myself a venue in which to write and learn about the medium.
Many writers for the Weekly went on to pursue journalism careers and
today take their place as prolific journalists in their own right.
Just four include you — who went on to have a long, flourishing
career at the Haverhill Gazette, Vincent Lima, former editor of The
Armenian Reporter, and Maral Habeshian-Dabandjian and Ara
Khachadourian former and present editors of Asbarez. Of course the
most famous writer who got his first break in the Armenian Weekly —
then called the Hairenik Weekly — was the young William Saroyan who
wrote under the pen name Sirak Goryan. I hope aspiring writers learn
from Saroyans’ example. Since our papers are `alternative’ in stature,
status and content, there are more opportunities for youth to gain
valuable experience in a variety of areas, and in a way that they may
not if they were to work at American newspapers. Of course, working
for the Armenian press also permits youth to benefit while giving back
to the community. Aspiring writers would also learn first-hand how to
carry forward our literary and cultural traditions. Our papers are
venues for established Armenian writers, too, who should take every
opportunity to contribute to them.
I’d like to add that Armenians have long been known for their high
literacy rates. As conditions evolve, I’d like to see it stay that way
and urge Armenians to enter the media corps. We especially need
acquiring editors and agents of Armenian descent who will see to it
that Armenian literary voice will be heard. I also urge Armenians to
support the printed word by buying Armenian-authored books and by
inviting such authors to conduct lectures or workshops. If we are to
have an impact upon the communities in which we live, we must support
writers and `creatives’ whom we believe speak for Armenians and their
culture. We need to establish endowments to make sure non-profit
ethnic media outlets have state-of-the-art technologies and
competitive salaries for the dedicated people who work there.
Hand-in-hand with the brain drain in Armenia, this sort of fundraising
would prevent our best, brightest and most committed from seeking
greener pastures because our own community does not have the means or
the will to sustain writers properly. Author Margaret Ajemian Ahnert
(A Knock at the Door) addressed this need when she established a
scholarship, dispensed by F.A.R., for aspiring women journalists in
Armenia and Artsakh to study and work there for the duration of the
grant.
And speaking of women, we are fortunate to have visionary women in the
modern day who support Armenians and their projects. Names such as
Alice Petrossian, Ani Boyadjian, Annie Chekijian, Betty
Apigian-Kessel, Gilda Buchakjian-Kupelian, Iris Papazian, Susan
Lind-Sinanian, Talin Derderian-Artinian and Zarminé Boghosian come to
mind. These women — be they educators, librarians and/or writers —
want to see fellow Armenians succeed, and are generous with their
knowledge and expertise. We owe them a debt of gratitude.
TV: Whom do you admire in the literary field of folklore?
LK: The late librarian, storyteller and author Virginia Tashjian is
one. Another is author-illustrator Nonny Hogrogian who won a Caldecott
Medal for retelling and illustrating the Armenian folktale, One Fine
Day. Researcher, writer/editor Susie Hoogasian-Villa is yet another.
These women — whom I envisioned as the keepers and disseminators of
our Armenian folk traditions in the American literary world — are my
abiding heroines. Their books are listed, with purchasing information,
on my website. I also have great reverence for the folk wisdom passed
on to us through epics like David of Sassoun, Gilgamesh, Aesop’s
Fables, Grimm’s Fairy Tales and Tales from the 1,001 Arabian Nights.
TV: Are there any misconceptions about writing?
LK: I think by now we know it’s a misconception that being an author
is a lucrative profession. It isn’t, unless your name is Gabriel
Garcia Márquez, John Grisham or Bill Cosby. Writers write because they
have a need to express themselves with words, whether there’s money in
it or not. Another misconception is that you can only get work through
connections. While connections can help, they don’t compensate for
ability.
In fact, connections can work against you, at least in my family they
can! My father and I can attest to how we have gotten jobs — he as a
columnist for The Armenian Weekly and I as an author — in spite of
and not because of the fact that our relatives worked at the
publishing operations we approached.
Another misconception relates to what I do for a living. My background
in book publicity does not make me a book agent or an acquisition
editor. These are very different jobs and we do need Armenians to fill
these roles. If I collected a dollar every time someone asked me to
`agent’ their work or to ghostwrite a memoir, I’d probably have enough
airfare to go to Armenia.
TV: What advice do you have for Armenians who want to break into book
publishing and for authors who want to find an agent or publisher?
LK: To apply for book publishing jobs, visit career boards like
For aspiring writers, write
every day, whether you plan to reveal your writing to the world or
not. Subscribe to magazines like Writer’s Digest. Join publishing
societies such as National Writers’ Union and critique groups such as
those at Grub Street. Visit local bookstores to see what topics are
popular, how books are visually designed and what types of writing
styles exist.
Attend book conventions such as Book Expo. There, you can preview
what’s coming to bookstores, attend helpful seminars, and perhaps even
showcase your work directly to editors who greet conventioneers
between their appointments. Consult the Literary Market Place (LMP).
This directory lists all publishers and agents, their areas of
specialization, and how to contact them.
More tips appear in the `Resources’ section of my website. That said,
if you have an idea, don’t worry about whether it’s in vogue right now
or not. If it has merit, and you are prepared to be your works’ best
advocate, it will find an audience. Ultimately, there are no
shortcuts. Pound the pavement, pay your dues, do your best work and
work your way up.
TV: What are your other interests?
LK: I am a Western Armenian folk dance performer. I also love mountain
hiking with my husband and friends and feel that doing so activates a
cellular memory for the mountains of Armenia.
TV: What are your future plans?
LK: There are several. One family project involves the memoirs of my
grandfather, Hampartzoom Hampartzoomian, a native of Sepastia. His
writings about traditional folkways in the village of Khorokhon will
interest those who wonder what life was like in Armenia prior to the
Genocide. My brother has been translating this work into English.
# # #
From: A. Papazian
http://la.indymedia.org/news/2011/03/245182.php
http://www.PublishersMarketplace.com.
www.lucinekasbarian.com