Outrageous. Hilarious. Contemptible…Take your pick. They all apply to the shocking choice of the Nobel Prize for Literature, 2016. For over a century, the name ‘Nobel' signified an illustrious distinction and international, humanitarian accomplishment in major fields in order to promote peace and improve the quality of our lives. To say the least, it was a shocking choice by the Swedish Nobel Committee for Literature to offer the award to American folklore singer and song-writer Bob Dylan. Not all have expressed dissatisfaction with the choice, certainly not his fans, but lovers of literature certainly have. Surely Hakumi Murakami of Japan, Don Dello of the US, or Ngugi wa Thong'o of Kenya, all in the running, were far more deserving, at least they wrote literature but words fail us when it comes to the committee's final choice. Admittedly, during the last decade or two some of the Nobel Peace Prizes were questionable, some verily eye-brow-raising, like giving Obama a Peace prize for ---- nothing. “This feels like the lamest Nobel win since they gave it to Obama for not being Bush.” The Nobel Peace Prize is the only award given by Norway, and has it not always been a given that Sweden was famous for its sedate judgement. Not this year. Out of the blue, the name Bob Dylan emerged. The Secretary of the Committee said it was not, yes, not a difficult choice and hoped the Academy would not be criticized for its choice. Well, it seems her hopes “have been blowin' in the wind”, as Dylan would say, sing, write. The choice was met with dismay. A few reactions: “Bob Dylan? Who?”; “He can't even sing”; “I thought he was a musician not a writer”; “the man never wrote a book”; Ouch. That one must hurt. The 18 members of the committee in Sweden thought otherwise. They insist that Dylan brought: “new poetic expressions within the great American song tradition.” Even if it were so, what has that got to do with Literature? When his name was first introduced in 2011, the result was 100/1, but they were determined. One needs to ask, who are they? They have committed nothing less than an execution of Literature, now a martyr of the wise members of the committee. Has the bar dropped so low that we can no longer expect greatness in our lifetime? There is no logic, no justice, no justification, maybe rhyme without reason. Alfred Bernhard Nobel, (1806-1833) a Swedish chemist who discovered dynamite, was dismayed that his discovery was used for war when he invented it for peace. Despite the fortune he made, he suffered from a feeling of guilt and set up a fund of about $9 million, the interest of which was to be used to award annual prizes each year to persons, regardless of nationality, who have made valuable contributions “for the good of mankind”. The Prize for Peace was separate, to be awarded in Norway. As regards Literature it was a reward “to the most distinguished literary work of an idealistic nature”… Nobel's own instructions. Was the committee aware of that? Critics claim they must be running an insanity factory over there. Controversial, to say the least. Mr Nobel, rumbling and grumbling in his grave must recall such Nobel laureates in Literature as T S Elliot, Saul Bellow, Eugene O'Neill, John Steinbeck, Pablo Neruda, among others like Winston Churchill, if you please. “What a new glorious enigma” this choice, “because there is no internal or external logic”. Among musicians Bob Dylan is revered, like Elvis or the Beatles. During the 60s he wrote some haunting songs, best known among them: “Blowin' in the Wind”, from his first album. “Like a rollin' stone” is considered his best. Has he changed, improved or promoted peace with his music, his words, his style, his appeal? Still scratching your head? Born Robert Allen Zimmerman in Duluth, Minnesota, in 1941, Bob received his first guitar at 14. He started strumming R&R in High School, but Duluth's freezing weather soon drove him to New York: “If you can make it there, you'll make it anywhere.” Zimmerman was replaced by Dylan, adopting Welsh poet Dylan Thomas' first name. Within a year he was indeed “making it”. His first album was released in 1962. He wrote of love, war, peace, betrayal, heartbreak, death, all of life's tragedies and joys that songwriters write about. A very private man, he seldom gives interviews, but often tours with his guitar and his popular songs. Despite his unique art in song-writing and composing, he has never reached the international stature of Elvis, the Beatles, Aznavour or Piaf. Has he touched us deeply? Are his songs requested regularly? Do you hum them while driving? Do you thrill at the poetic expressions or sentiments expressed in his poems? His die-hard fans do. Among musicians he is unchallenged, but among writers, novelists, professors of the English, not the Swedish language, he is not. Most intellectuals are still horrified. Most literary men are still asking “Who”? Whatever the process is of choosing an award for literature is, it should not be left to song-lovers. Judges should be the men and women of Literature. When at one point his writing was compared to Alfred Lord Tennyson, the chair of the English Faculty at Oxford University cried out: “That makes us angry.” It makes us angry too. “You cannot fly like an eagle with the wings of a wren.” William Henry Hudson (1841-1922)
