Chairil Anwar: Poet of a Generation
Chairil Anwar: every Indonesian schoolchild knows his
name. For this poet was one of the famed figures of the 1945 Generation,
that group of luminaries who brought heat and light to Indonesian literature in the
formative years of the new nation.
Through his poetry, Chairil Anwar succeeded in infusing
Indonesian verse with a new spirit and bringing a new enthusiasm to Indonesias
cultural arena. He also provided friends and acquaintances with never-ending tales to tell
of his personal eccentricities, including his hobby of stealing books from the shops, his
tendency to plagiarize from foreign poets, his many lovers, his numerous ailments, and his
Born on July 22, 1922 in Medan, North Sumara, Chairil
attended the Hollands Inlandsche School (HIS), a Dutch elementary school for
natives. He then continued his education at the Meer Uitgebreid Lager
Onderwijs, a Dutch junior high school, but he dropped out before graduating. At the age of
nineteen, after the divorce of his parents, Chairil moved with his mother to Jakarta where
he came in contact with the literary world. Despite his unfinished education, Chairil had
an active command of English, Dutch and German, and he filled his hours by reading an
international selection of authors, including Rainer M. Rilke, W.H. Auden, Archibald
MacLeish, H. Marsman, J. Slaurhoff and Edgar du Perron. These writers became his
references, directly influencing his own poetry and later helping him shift the gaze of
Indonesian literature to fall upon Europe. This westward turn was one of the major
differences between Chairils 1945 Generation peers and the previous
cohort of Indonesian writers, the New Authors Generation of the 1930s, who
were more oriented toward traditional verse forms. Chairils poetry was not only
topically fresh, it struggled with individual and existential issues, in contrast to the
writers of the New Authors Generation who were more concerned with giving
voice to nationalist enthusiasm.
Chairil began to gain recognition as a
poet with the publication of Nisan (Gravestone) in 1942. At
that time, he was only twenty years old. He had apparently been shocked by the death of
his grandmother, which awakened him to the fact that death could at any moment tear one
away from life. Most of the poems he wrote after this point referred, at least implicitly,
to this awareness of death. All of his poemsthe originals, the adaptations and those
suspected of being plagiarismshave been collected in three books: Deru Campur
Debu (Roar Mixed with Dust, 1949); Kerikil Tajam Yang Terampas dan Yang
Putus (Sharp Pebbles The Seized and the Severed, 1949); and Tiga
Menguak Takdir (Three Tear Open Fate, 1950, a collection of poems with
Asrul Sani and Rivai Apin).
Chairils poetic vitality was never in balance with his physical condition, which
grew weaker as a result of his chaotic lifestyle. Before he could turn twenty-seven, he
had already contracted a number of illnesses. In the last days of his life, he wrote
a poem that read thus:
The Seized and the Severed
the darkness and passing wind overtake me
and the room where the one I long for shivers
with nights penetration; trees stand like dead memorials
but in Karet, yes, Karet Cemetery my future locale there, the wind howls,
I put my room in order, and myself as well, in the chance that you might come
and I may once again unleash a new story for you;
but now its only my hands that move, emptily
my body is still and alone, as frozen stories and events pass by
On April 28, 1949, Chairil Anwar passed away at the CBZ Hospital (now R.S.
Ciptomangunkusomo) in Jakarta. And indeed, he was buried at Karet Cemetery the next day.
In memory of the words he left behind, April 28th is now celebrated as Literature Day in
POEMS OF CHAIRIL ANWAR
My Friend And I
For L.K. Bohang
We share the same path, late at night
with the fog, penetrating
and the rain, drenching our bodies.
Ships freeze in the harbor.
My blood curdles. My mind congeals.
Who is it that speaks?
My friend is but a skeleton
scourged of his strength.
He asks the time!
It is so late.
All meaning has sunk and drowned
and motion has no purpose.
No, woman! What lives in me
still easily evades your fevered and dark embrace,
intent on finding the greenness of another sea,
to be again on the ship where we first met,
surrendering the rudder to the wind,
our eyes fixed on waiting stars.
Something flapping its wings, again conveys
Tai Po and the secret of the Ambonese Sea.
Such is woman! A single vague line
is all I can write
in my flight towards her enigmatic smile.
To dictate is not my intent,
Fate is separate loneliness-es.
I choose you from among the rest, but
in a moment we are snared by loneliness once more.
There was a time I truly wanted you,
to be as children in crowning darkness,
and we kissed and fondled, not tiring.
I did not want to ever let you go.
Do not unite your life with mine,
for I cannot be with anyone for very long
I write now on a ship, in some nameless sea.
Pines in the Distance
Pines scatter in the distance,
as day becomes night,
branches slap weakly at the window,
pushed by a sultry wind.
Im now a person who can survive,
so long ago I left childhood behind,
though once there was something,
that now counts for nothing at all.
Life is but postponement of defeat,
a growing estrangement from youths unfettered love
a knowing theres always something left unsaid,
before we finally acquiesce.
Yampolsky is Managing Editor of the Lontar Foundation, a non-profit organization devoted
translating and promoting Indonesian literature overseas. All the poems of Chairil Anwar
reprinted here were
translated by John H. McGlynn. All of them, with the exception of The Seized and the
Severed, were first
published in similar version in Menagerie I by the Lontar Foundation in 1992.