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 | | Profession-Journalist A dream down the drain |
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| By Francoise Arnould |
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"I would like to offer this article as a tribute to Marianne Pearl, whose husband, Wall Street Journal reporter Daniel Pearl, died tragically after being kidnapped on 23 January, having arranged to meet members of a shadowy group of Islamic militants outside a Karachi restaurant."
Sunset Boulevard is a bouillabaisse of rage and squalor mixed with immigrant hope and enlivened by the spice of easy felony. We used to dream about stars, glory, glamour and the twinkle of Tinsel Town...Now Norma Desmond would be a bum next door, looking for a cardboard box as a permanent address. Her world has indeed been shattered and we are the only ones who remember her grandeur in a petty world...
To be a journalist today is a bit like this dream down gone the drain which is all that's left of the Sunset strip, the Hollywood dream, the tinsel town mirror to all our wild expectations. When I started in the profession, I thought I was going to be different from all the rest of my fellows. In a way I was, I still am, because I have my own way of presenting the subject I wish to write about and my style is indeed my own. I wanted to be part of "what makes the world's heart beat", so I chose, in a way, to be a student all my life, to "study and submit my homework" every day or each time I was inspired.
Writing cannot be learned, so it cannot be taught. I believe it is a natural disposition. A gift. If we have it, we have to work hard. Because an article is as ephemeral as water: always present, but out of date the day it is published. I have a few codes that I always follow in my profession: when I write, I do it with my ears; I respect the personal music of others, and I never forget that like ballet, a journalist never stops practising. The worst side of being a journalist is perhaps when you have to proof-read what you have just written and try not to change a single word. Rewriting someone else's piece is also very delicate and requires that ear and fine-tuned approach I mentioned earlier.
Journalism is a varied and exciting profession. You can write just one piece and you become a specialist in the subject. You can also write on many different subjects and follow not only your own inspiration but also the events of the world, becoming the instantly selective memory of our cruel planet. I don't think I can say "I can write on everything", but everything interests me. I like all genres, all rhythms. A report on an inter-governmental meeting in Nepal is as interesting as writing which requires reflection, such as when you review a book, a film or write an editorial.
There is nothing wrong in passing to the reader your admiration or enthusiasm and sometimes that is what interests me most in writing. But I also like to snap at people who I think are stepping on my feet, and it is also the role of a journalist to answer the unanswered questions. Can a journalist be compared to someone who is kind, careful and indifferent? Not really. A journalist should go as close to the truth as possible, close to his/her own truth, too, as long as it retains objectivity. Subjectivity is only possible if you have time and space to write, which is always the problem when you write an article. That is why journalists can easily become writers, if time and space are allotted to their "art".
What's left of a journalist when the final curtain falls on his/her life? Tons of paper, words, images that will go through history as those "selective memories" on which the future will depend. Journalism is a very modern profession; a dangerous one, now, when we consider "war reportage". Diffusion of information is a key source nowadays of social balance and no journalist should play a part without being conscious of his/her responsibility. A poorly informed population is one which wakes up in the morning demoralized and unhappy with themselves and others. We should not lose self-respect in the name of freedom. Journalists should certainly not lose it that way.
Journalists often live their lives through external events because they use them as references. These are difficult times for them to remember at the end of their career. In the exhilaration of reaching for the truth, some journalists go their own ways and put their own lives at risk, becoming ideal targets for political plots. Journalists do not have secrets. They simply diffuse information freely; this is the basis of their profession.
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