Oh, writer, shall I call thee a driver

Driver is to car as writer is to book. This is one of the analogies we composed many moons ago during our English grammar lessons in primary school.

Well, there is an uncanny similarity between writing and driving. Between a book and a ride in a car. This similarity has often morphed seamlessly into a symbiotic relationship between the two occupations.

Many writers have professed a link between traveling and writing. They say that certain sections, or whole of their works, were inspired by traveling: that as they cruised on their journeys over scenic landscapes (or drought-stricken God-forsaken lands) they got the muse to write. Others had a light bulb moment to jumpstart a stalled chapter in their book.

A number of the world’s renowned writers doubled up as drivers too. Ernest Hemingway easily counts among such authors.

He was a volunteer ambulance driver during the First World War. So were such other literary greats as E.E. Cummings and Somerset Maugham. They were part of the 23 American authors who were dubbed the Literary Ambulance Drivers in WWI.

It was on his return from one such assignments in the Spanish War that Hemingway, who was also a journalist, wrote his seminal book A Farewell to Arms.

Far eastwards in China, one of the country’s fastest rally drivers is also the fastest rising literary star.  For 34-year-old Han Han loves writing and driving and has become quite a sensation in both fields.

Significantly, writers and drivers have a common role in society, they take their charges (readers and passengers respectively) on a journey to lands and climes unknown. The former on a literary tour the latter on a literal one.

MARVELS OF A BOOK

But since a safe and nice road trip depends on the driver, a good book equally depends on the writer. The experiences of both roles can safely be juxtaposed.

Given the long distances of some of the physical journeys and the highly individualistic character of the commuter community, the matatu can be a veritable reading carrel for bookworms. As a regular commuter on Kenyan roads, I cherish riding in a matatu and reading in it for the anonymity and privacy it affords.

Quite ironically, a public service vehicle is the more solitary and reader friendly than a private car. It is an all-quiet cabin as most passengers curl themselves in their seats, stuff their ears with earphones and just tap or swipe away on their smart phones.

Lacking what to do with a phone for three hours continuous, a book in hand can handily dispel such long spells of loneliness. Reading and riding in a matatu can indeed offer some of the most enchanting experiences of life.

However, the marvels of a book and mercies of a journey depend to a large extent on a writer’s flair and driver’s diligence.  Some books and journeys are savoured as others are suffered all through.

When you enter a matatu you hope that a professional driver is in control and look forward to a smooth ride all the way to your destination. Similarly, when you open a book to read you hope that the terms “masterpiece” and “must-read” are not accidental hyperboles on the blurb as you look forward to a nice read.  

There are times when both driver and author know their craft and carry you in their literal and literary journeys respectively. The former takes charge of the “beast” and hits the road with enchanting dexterity of hand on the wheel and foot on the pedals to deliver a flawless ride to his passengers.

On a similar luck, the author gives you a gem dripping with gripping flair, style and literary swag from page one to last. I have seen a passenger read a book on a night-long trip from Nairobi to Kampala, even in the dim lights of the bus and as he queued for clearance at the Busia Boarder Immigration offices at 4am! Such is the stuff of a smooth read and ride.

On a bad day though, you get a driver who rumbles on with a jerky foot on the pedals and uncertain grip on the wheel. Such a driver keeps passengers on the edge of their seats fearing for their safety at every turn.

It is the same for a writer whose pen totters along a hazy plot and stumbles too frequently on rocky track. It is the stuff of a rough ride in a book.