"OH, East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet,
Till Earth and Sky stand presently at God’s great Judgment Seat;
But there is neither East nor West, Border, nor Breed, nor Birth,
When two strong men stand face to face, tho’ they come from the ends of the earth!"
- Rudyard Kipling.
Caught in the crossfire of writing. On the scales are 'emigrant' writers (born and brought up in the West, writing of their homeland, in language that is foreign to the people of their homeland.) , against those that write, staying where they were born and brought up, of their own land, in their mother-tongue, unmindful of the reader, perhaps. The debate is of aesthetics and ideologies, that rosy wreath we lay on 'multiculturalism' and sadly, the art of writing runs into the quagmire of socio-political views. Not that any piece of writing ever has been elusive of it, still. Kipling's verse is at once, distinguishing then knitting together, peoples on a more philosophical canvas of humanity before the Supreme force.