A book that speaks to the reader with eloquence and elegance
As we reflect on 2024, we are reminded of how the power of the human mind continues to drive remarkable achievements. Highlights include AlphaFold’s groundbreaking contributions to biological research and drug discovery, Japan’s successful launch of the Smart Lander for Investigating the Moon (SLIM), NASA’s Perseverance rover uncovering potential evidence of ancient microbial life on Mars, and OpenAI’s Sora advancing AI-driven content creation to new heights.
In the realm of letters, 2024 witnessed the release of numerous exceptional books. Some of these brought significant news for Asia. Notably, South Korean author Han Kang made history as the first Asian woman to receive the Nobel Prize for Literature, a moment of immense pride and inspiration. In the fields of science and education, Jonathan Haidt’s The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness made a remarkable contribution, delving into the effects of digital screens on young people’s mental health. Salman Rushdie’s Knife: Meditations After an Attempted Murder, a deeply personal autobiographical work, is sure to be read for decades to come.
Closer to home, the Indian subcontinent witnessed the publication, launch, and lively debates surrounding numerous remarkable books. I relished some of them (over 60,000 new books are published in India every year!). Among the most notable were William Dalrymple’s The Golden Road: How Ancient India Transformed the World, Shashi Tharoor’s A Wonderland of Words: Around the World in 101 Essays, Ambassador Pavan K. Verma’s Adi Shankaracharya: Hinduism’s Greatest Thinker. These books have significantly enriched South Asia’s literary landscape, particularly in the non-fiction genre.
It is not my intent to delve into these works in this brief article. Instead, I reserve this space to share my impressions about yet another outstanding book, published at home in Bhutan in December 2024.
As 2024 breathed its final sigh, former education minister Thakur S Powdyel’s Country before Self: A Tribute, a refreshing work of prose non-fiction, emerged as a rare addition to the country’s intellectual wealth and creative heritage. Comprising fifty-three captivating articles laid out in three broad thematic categories—‘Bhutan in My Heart,’ ‘Too Many Goodbyes,’ and ‘Embracing the World’—the book offers a delightful and edifying read.
Country Before Self is an exuberant and decisive expression of an author with a polymathic mind—a personality in whom many fascinating roles converge effortlessly and without pretence: distinguished educator, illustrious public servant, acclaimed writer, poet, philosopher, and patriot. Every page of the book unfolds like a rich tapestry of stories lived and observed, values tested and affirmed, and art and ideas explored.
There is no shortage of knowledge and insights woven into the narrative—dreams, discipline, worldviews, ancient civilizations, art, nature, music, poetry, pomegranates, teachers, children, SDGs, Virgil, Shakespeare, Gandhi, PISA tests, public life and service, the Vatican City, the Latin roots of English words, keynote addresses, Vietnamese grace and elegance, happy schools, goodbyes… The list is too vast to enumerate fully here.
Nor is there a lack of the finest words and expressions, expertly crafted to suit the tone and spirit of this masterful work. Reading Country before Self, I was often reminded of the words of the 13th-century Sufi mystic and poet Rumi: “Raise your words, not your voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.” During a visit to Punakha in 2008, the author wrote, capturing the moment in the book: “The benign silence of the night forms a matching backdrop to the slow music of our darling rivers as they continue their timeless journey into the forever realm of the infinite.” In the constant demands of everyday life, the inherent beauty and order of the world outside the egotistical self often go unnoticed. It takes the absorptive mind of an inspired artist or a keen-eyed writer to sense the rhythm and cadence of life’s fleeting moments and bloom “flowers” from them, echoing Rumi’s wisdom.
Throughout the book, the reader is treated to a wealth of ideas, experiences, and observations rendered in prose that is both accesible and profoundly poetic. The titles of the 53 prose narratives speak directly to the reader’s own experience, made so by the author’s rare ability to convey life stories through a seamless blend of prose and poetic expression. Pieces like these will never fail to enthrall the reader’s mind: ‘Flowers Whisper,’ ‘The Minstrel of Talo,’ ‘Tika Times and Village Vibes,’ ‘A Teacher Retires Today,’ ‘The World Sans Queen Elizabeth II,’ ‘India at 75,’ ‘Education as if People and Planet Matter,’ ‘A Green Colombian Gratitude,’ and ‘Curriculum and the National Character.’
Rarely seen in Bhutanese writing in English today, Country before Self is a rich tapestry of literary and linguistic elements, including metaphors, allusions, similes, oxymorons, personifications, alliterations, symbolism, onomatopoeia, anaphora, idioms, euphemisms, and much more. The book will be an excellent choice for university courses, fostering intellectual curiosity, critical thinking, the cultivation of enduring values, and enhancing writing workshops. Those involved in governance, public policy, education, business, peace and well-being studies, science, technology, the creative arts, as well as parents and children, will find the book both comforting and life-affirming.
Reading the 53 sparkling, profoundly uplifting, and rewarding prose narratives spanning the book’s 325 pages was never tiring, thanks to the writer’s deep emotional engagement with his art and the strong authorial voice that permeates the entire work. Engaging with Country before Self has reaffirmed my belief that genuine writing, both as an art and a craft, is intricately tied to the writer’s inner and outer lives. The book illuminates numerous inspiring and meaningful incidents from the author’s life. For instance, reflecting on a morning congregation at Sherubtse College, the author recalls how a student, moved by his speech, took a quote from John Bunyan’s ‘The Pilgrim’s Progress’ and “pasted it on the door of his hostel room.” The quote reads:
Better, though difficult, the right way to go
Than wrong, which though easy, where the end is woe.
Country Before Self is a fascinating work of art, with each page serving as a mindscape painted beautifully with strokes of solid wisdom, penetrating thoughts, uplifting emotions, fond memories, critical perceptions, and abiding hopes. Paying tribute to Bhutan’s enlightened leadership, its unique model of democracy, and the profound influence of Vajrayana Buddhism’s extraordinary practice of inward reflection, the author affirms: “The wisdom to look inward and secure the soul of the nation has always moderated the impulse to opt for the dramatic and the populist.”
In Country Before Self, Thakur S. Powdyel’s multifaceted personality as an educationist and writer— poet, philosopher, patriot, and observer of life’s grand spectacles and delicate ironies—comes to full fruition. During a brief visit to Punakha in 2008, as noted earlier, he wrote:
Rolling fields of golden rice spread through the length of the valley, right and left, as far as the eyes can see, and wait for reapers with harvest-calls. Far in the distance, where the heights touch the sky, at the sacred seat of Jamgoen, the celestial abode of the future Buddha, the holy sentinels of Sewla Goemba keep their vigil over the land of abiding faith and folklore. Magic pervades this world.
The renowned philosopher and Nobel laureate in literature Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) was once approached by a young man eager to become a writer. The man’s problem was that every time he sat down to put pen to paper, the words simply wouldn’t flow. He was stuck. Russell, the famed mathematician, suggested that he go to Siberia to experience life there, so that writing, deeply intertwined with life, would come more naturally. The message here is that the true source and motivation for serious writing are not infantile excitement, instant gratification, or a craving for fleeting popularity. It requires passion, experience, sustained effort, self-discipline, natural talent, and fidelity to high standards. The quality of writing, books, and publications reflects a nation’s intellectual life, as well as its inner and outer culture. Hence, Dr. Powdyel emphasizes that “Sans art, sans literature, sans music, a nation has no soul”.
We live in times when the distinction between the serious and the frivolous in writing and scholarship is increasingly blurred. Country before Self, therefore, comes as a breath of fresh air, offering hope to the rich tradition of Bhutanese writing that was pioneered in the 1600s by Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyal (1594-1651) and carried forward by distinguished scholars such as Je Sherab Gyeltshan (1772-1848), Lopon Norbu Wangchuk (1917-1991), Je Gedun Rinchen (1926–1997), Lam Pema Tshewang (1926- 2009), and many others.
An unmissable book, Country before Self: A Tribute will soon be available in bookstores.
Contributed by
Dorji Thinley, PhD
President, Paro College of Education