Yogyakarta — The night at Pondok A. Salam, Kalimasada, grew warmer during Unggunan Cerita, a session featuring writer Mahfud Ikhwan as part of the 2026 Literary Camp with Nature and the Universe. In an informal and intimate atmosphere, Mahfud shared stories from his writing journey, discussed his creative process and research, reflected on his fascination with popular culture, and offered his thoughts on literary criticism.
The session gave participants a glimpse into the “creative kitchen” of a writer who has spent years developing his work through persistence, research, and close attention to everyday life.
Mahfud began his literary journey with the novel Ulid Tak Ingin ke Malaysia (2009). His name became increasingly recognized through Kambing dan Hujan: Sebuah Roman (2015) and Dawuk: Kisah Kelabu dari Rumbuk Randu (2017). These works reflect his sustained interest in ordinary people, particularly rural communities and those living on the margins of mainstream society.
During Unggunan Cerita, Mahfud spoke at length about the way he works. Writing a novel, he explained, is not necessarily something that can be completed in a matter of months. Some projects take years—up to nine years for a single novel.
For Mahfud, every novel calls for its own treatment, working process, method, and research. There is no universal formula that can be applied to every book. Literary research, he noted, cannot simply be treated in the same way as academic or scientific research. Its approach depends on the story being written, the world the writer wants to create, and what the work seeks to convey.
He also referred to Haruki Murakami’s writing routine as an example of how a writer can cultivate creative discipline through repetition. Murakami is well known for combining regular running with a disciplined writing practice. For Mahfud, the example demonstrates that creative work also demands consistency and persistence rather than simply waiting for inspiration to arrive.
One of Mahfud’s most interesting suggestions was that writers should not necessarily begin a story with a grand idea or grand narrative. A story can instead emerge from something seemingly small: an incident, a scene, an exchange, or a compelling piece of dialogue.
Such small details can become an entry point into a much larger story. What matters is whether the scene or event can draw readers in, make them want to stay with the story, and leave them curious about what comes next.
This approach means that writers do not have to impose a grand idea on a story from the outset. A seemingly ordinary conversation or minor incident can grow into a complex fictional world when handled with care.
The same sensibility can be seen in Mahfud’s attention to forms of culture outside the established cultural mainstream. He is comfortable engaging with what he calls “low culture and entertainment”—forms of popular culture that are often dismissed or looked down upon.
The lives of ordinary people and communities on the margins, for instance, have become the raw material for his fiction. One example is Dawuk: Kisah Kelabu dari Rumbuk Randu, a novel about life in a rural community that went on to receive a prestigious literary award.
Mahfud’s fascination with popular culture does not remain merely a matter of personal consumption. Dangdut, Indian films, and football have all found their way into his writing.
His interest in football, for example, inspired the novel Bek: Sebuah Novel (2024). His love of Indian cinema became the subject of the essay collection Aku dan Film India Melawan Dunia (2017). His fascination with dangdut and other forms of popular culture later found expression in Kepikiran Dangdut dan Hal-hal Pop Lainnya (2024).
These works demonstrate that literary material does not always have to come from what is considered “high culture.” Everyday life, popular entertainment, social habits, and things that are often dismissed as trivial can all become sources of literary creativity.
For Mahfud, it is precisely in such seemingly ordinary spaces that stories can retain a strong connection to concrete human experience.
Toward the end of the session, the conversation turned to literary criticism. Mahfud explained that good criticism serves a purpose far beyond simply judging a work or pointing out its weaknesses.
He compared literary criticism to singing practice and singing off-key. A singer may not realize that a particular note is slightly out of tune. In much the same way, a writer may not be aware of everything taking place within their own work.
“There are things that even the writer does not know or realize.”
Literary criticism, therefore, can reveal possibilities that remain invisible to the writer. With the right perspective, theory, and method, criticism can become a productive way of reading a work more closely and thoughtfully.
For Mahfud, literary criticism should not be reduced to what is increasingly associated with arguments on social media: sniping at others, trading personal attacks, or creating noise without a clear intellectual basis.
Mahfud has also practiced criticism himself through his book Melihat Pengarang Tidak Bekerja (2022). The book reflects his own approach to criticism: staying close to the literary work while examining authorship and the creative process from a critical perspective.
Ultimately, Unggunan Cerita became more than a conversation about writing techniques. From the long gestation of a novel to his enthusiasm for dangdut, Indian cinema, and football, Mahfud showed that a writer’s creative kitchen can be found almost anywhere.
Stories can grow out of villages, marginal spaces, football fields, Indian films, dangdut stages, or even a seemingly insignificant line of dialogue. What matters is how a writer observes, processes, researches, and gives form to what they encounter.
Under the night sky of Kalimasada, Unggunan Cerita offered a reminder that literature does not always emerge from grand ideas. Sometimes, it begins with something small that someone takes the time to notice—and then patiently works on for years.
Author: Khotibul Umam


