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

 

Yogyakarta — The Master’s Program in Literary Studies at the Faculty of Cultural Sciences, Universitas Gadjah Mada (UGM), held the 2026 Literary Camp with Nature at Pondok A. Salam, Kalimasada, from August 14 to 15. Conceived as a community-oriented and collaborative initiative, the camp brought together writers and literary enthusiasts in an informal setting while inviting them to reflect on what literature means—and what it can do—in everyday life.

The camp was intentionally modest and non-commercial. For Prof. Dr. Aprinus Salam, M.Hum., Head of UGM’s Master’s Program in Literary Studies and one of the event’s facilitators, this simplicity was part of the point. At its heart, he argues, literature should help people remain independent and hold on to their sense of humanity.

“What matters in literature, including an event like this Literary Camp, is the effort to preserve independence and uphold our character. And perhaps the chances of failing are greater.”

For Aprinus, independence is never easy to maintain. Throughout its history, literature has often occupied a distinctive position in relation to political and economic power, as well as to social and cultural structures built on hierarchy and inequality.

Literature, he suggests, has a critical responsibility: to examine the world we inhabit and distinguish what has been compromised from what remains worth defending.

“Ethically and aesthetically, literature is a continuing effort to discern what in life has been corrupted and what ought to be defended.”

This perspective helps explain the spirit behind the Literary Camp. It was not conceived as a commercial event, nor as a gathering defined by elaborate facilities. Instead, it sought to create a space where people could meet, exchange ideas, and reconnect through literature.

Aprinus acknowledges that maintaining independence is a difficult undertaking and that failure is always a real possibility. Independent initiatives, he observes, are becoming increasingly difficult to sustain, particularly in a society where many people live under significant constraints and have had few opportunities to cultivate self-reliance.

For him, however, literature’s concern with independence goes hand in hand with something deeper: preserving the human capacity for empathy, integrity, and conscience.

“Historically, literature has also been a space for reaffirming our essential humanity. It is a space where we struggle to preserve what is genuine in being human. Literature is one way of keeping our conscience alive.”

Participants in the 2026 Literary Camp were selected through a literary curation process. Applicants were asked to submit either at least one short story or five poems. Around 40 percent of the submissions—roughly 40 participants—were ultimately selected.

Their works will be compiled into an anthology of short stories and poetry. Initially, the anthology will be produced as a photocopied edition according to the number of copies needed. If the collection proves worthy of further development, the organizers plan to pursue an ISBN for a subsequent edition.

In this sense, the Literary Camp was more than a gathering. It brought together several dimensions of literary life—writing, reading, curation, discussion, and exchange—within an intentionally modest setting.

The program began on Friday afternoon with the arrival of participants and the formation of groups, followed by communal prayer and a briefing. The afternoon unfolded informally, with introductions, conversations, walks, light exercise, and time spent exploring the gardens around Kalimasada. As evening fell, participants gathered to watch the sunset before beginning the main evening program.

After dinner came Literary Oration, featuring Muhammad Lutfi Dwi Kurniawan and Rini Febriani Hauri, followed by a reading of Curatorial Notes. The evening continued with a relaxed conversation with writer Mahfud Ikhwan, titled Unggunan Cerita, before moving into poetry and short-story readings.

The night eventually gave way to rest, and the program resumed on Saturday morning with dawn prayers, a morning walk, coffee and tea, breakfast, a group photograph, and preparations for departure.

For Aprinus, the significance of the camp lies partly in its brevity. The event lasted only about 18 hours, but even such a short encounter can offer a temporary space in which participants attempt to live out the values they associate with literature.

Yet he is careful not to romanticize the experience. The real test, he suggests, begins after everyone leaves.

“The Literary Camp is one example. During those hours, it may seem that we are trying to preserve our independence and hold on to our humanity. But unfortunately, it lasts only 18 hours.”

Once the camp is over, participants return to their separate lives. The temporary community dissolves, and each person must once again negotiate the pressures of everyday existence.

“After the Literary Camp, we have to struggle on our own again—caught up in noisy political routines, anxious economic pressures, and a social and cultural routine that can become tedious.”

Seen in this light, the camp is not an escape from reality so much as a brief interruption of it. It offers participants a chance to step away from the noise, even momentarily, and to read, write, talk, listen, and reflect.

The limited facilities at Pondok A. Salam are part of that experience. The camp does not promise comfort or convenience. Participants share simple spaces, adjust to limited resources, exchange stories, and learn to take responsibility for their own needs.

That simplicity also reinforces the event’s broader ethos: literature does not necessarily require elaborate infrastructure to create meaningful encounters.

With a relatively full schedule, participants were expected to respect time and remain attentive to one another. But discipline was not meant to undermine the camp’s convivial spirit. On the contrary, the organizers hoped that the event would be a joyful occasion—a place where literature could be experienced rather than merely talked about.

Ultimately, as Aprinus Salam suggests, literature is about more than texts, literary technique, or aesthetics. It is also about the ongoing struggle to preserve something more fundamental: our independence, our humanity, and our conscience.

 

Author: Khotibul Umam

The Student Association of Japanese Language and Culture (HIMAJE) of the Japanese Language and Culture Study Program, Universitas Gadjah Mada (UGM), organized Kagami, or Kazoku to Eiga wo Miyou (“Let’s Watch Movies with Family”), as one of the regular programs of HIMAJE’s Kazoku Division during the Even Semester of the 2025/2026 Academic Year. The program serves as a platform for students from different cohorts and classes to strengthen their relationships through movie screenings in a warm and family-like atmosphere. Throughout the semester, Kagami was held four times, on April 2, April 30, May 29, and June 19, 2026.

Each Kagami session featured a different film genre selected through discussions and voting among Kazoku members. The films screened during the semester included Godzilla Minus One (apocalypse), Once Upon a Crime (comedy), and Little Love Song together with Have a Song on Your Lips (music). Each session began with a brief introduction to the film, followed by a movie screening and concluded with a discussion, participants’ reflections, and the selection of genre suggestions for the following month’s program.

Through Kagami, HIMAJE seeks to cultivate a sense of togetherness inspired by family values, providing students with an opportunity to spend quality time together outside academic activities. The program is expected not only to strengthen relationships among Kazoku members but also to create a space for students to get to know one another, exchange perspectives, and foster a stronger sense of belonging to the Japanese Language and Culture Study Program at UGM.

Author: Japanese Languge and Culture Program

 

On Thursday, 18 June 2026, the Cultural Anthropology Student Family (KEMANT) of Universitas Gadjah Mada held its annual Hearing Department event in Room 201 of the Poerbatjaraka Building, Faculty of Cultural Sciences (FIB) UGM, Yogyakarta. Running from 1:00 PM to 3:00 PM WIB, the interactive dialogue was hosted by MC [Name] and moderated by Dionysius Nugroho Danumurti. The session was attended by student representatives across various cohorts alongside faculty members, including Agung Wicaksono, Sita Hidayah, Agus Indiyanto, Mubarika Dyah Fitri Nugraheni, Suzie Handajani, Atik Triratnawati, and Elan Lazuardi. The forum served as a communicative platform to gather, review, and address critical student feedback ranging from academic affairs and curriculum management to student organization governance and campus facility availability.

Through a presentation of pre-collected feedback slides, students highlighted several key issues affecting their daily learning environment. Core discussions focused on the disproportionate workload for introductory courses, course quota limitations during course registration (“War KRS”) that disadvantage internal anthropology students, clarity regarding the role and responsiveness of teaching assistants, and the need for greater transparency in grading. In response, the department welcomed the input constructively and committed to using these written recommendations as an official framework to push for policy improvements at both the faculty and university levels. Beyond classroom learning, the department outlined the strategic reasoning behind rescheduling the Integrated Fieldwork (TPL) to mid-year, primarily to mitigate the risks of natural disasters and extreme weather conditions typically affecting research sites toward the end of the year.

In addition to academic topics, the forum addressed physical infrastructure and internal organizational management. Students emphasized the importance of enhancing building accessibility for individuals with disabilities, reconfiguring classrooms to better facilitate group discussions, creating safe and comfortable public spaces, and optimizing place-of-worship facilities within the faculty grounds. Meanwhile, KEMANT officers took the opportunity to present a transparent financial report of the organization’s funds and introduced an updated leadership election mechanism designed to be more democratic, open, and accountable to all members.

The implementation of this participatory forum aligns closely with the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) within higher education. First, it directly advances SDG 4 (Quality Education) through a sustained commitment to improving teaching quality, ensuring fair curriculum adjustments, and fostering a conducive learning environment. Second, the emphasis on providing disability-friendly and fully accessible campus facilities reflects a concrete effort to support SDG 10 (Reduced Inequalities). Lastly, the hearing embodies SDG 16 (Peace, Justice, and Strong Institutions) by establishing a transparent, accountable, and responsive institutional governance framework for the entire academic community.

Author: Zayyan Faadia Ayutty

On 17 June 2026, students on the Master’s Programme in Anthropology paid an academic visit to the home of the Indonesian writer, Ahmad Tohari, in Banyumas. The visit formed part of the learning process, providing an opportunity for reflection on the importance of literacy, advocacy for marginalized communities, and intellectual responsibility in producing written works that have an impact on society. The meeting was warm and inspiring for the students.

Ahmad Tohari shared the story of his journey to becoming recognised as one of Indonesia’s leading writers. He explained that becoming a writer is not an easy path. Perseverance, sensitivity to the lives of the community, and the courage to give voice to social realities were the key qualities that enabled him to produce works that remain relevant to this day. According to Ahmad Tohari, it is not enough for a writer simply to have the ability to string words together. Writers must also be able to give a voice to those who are often unheard, particularly marginalized communities facing various social issues. He expressed his concern that some contemporary literary works are beginning to lose their connection with the realities of grassroots communities and are becoming more market-oriented than focused on human values.

He urged the students to begin writing about the communities closest to them before seeking out distant or exotic subjects. He cited one of his own works, “Ronggeng Dukuh Paruk”, which draws on the Banyumas community where he was born and raised. This approach ultimately helped us, those present, to embrace the spirit of the decolonisation of knowledge—as an effort to build an understanding of Indonesian society without always relying on Western frameworks of thought. Whilst he did not explicitly mention the term ‘decolonisation’ during the discussion, throughout his career he has written from local perspectives and using local idioms; indeed, through every experience he shared, it was evident how that spirit manifested itself.

“Write; by writing, you exist.”

This message left the deepest impression on the students. For Ahmad Tohari, writing is not merely an academic activity or a profession, but a form of existence and a moral responsibility to document human experience, preserve collective memory, and champion the values of justice and humanity. Furthermore, this session offered a fresh perspective on the importance of ethnography and scholarly writing—work that not only meets academic standards but also brings tangible benefits to society. As aspiring researchers and academics, the students were encouraged to produce writing born of empathy, championing the interests of vulnerable groups, and serving as a bridge between knowledge and social change.

 

Author: Elsha Pipit Nathalia & Dewi Widyastuti

Photo Credits: Dr. Sita Hidayah, M.A.