Thursday, July 31, 2008
Two good things
However, I am elated by two bits of pretty exciting news (for me at any rate) that came my way in the last week. The first is the publication of the book Tales from the Court by Matthew Thomas. (I'll come to the next one later.) So, what's so exciting about it, you may ask? Another writer, another book. Only that Matthew Thomas is sixty-two years old and has never written creatively before (except for legal briefs). His short story appeared in Silverfish New Writing 5. As far as I know, he is the only Silverfish New Writer from Malaysia, out of more than 150, to have come up with his own volume of short stories in English (I am not counting those who have recycled their previously published stories), and ironically it has to happen after we decided to end the series.
I didn't know that he had never written before when he asked me if I liked his story in SNW5. He asked if he could send me some more. I said, sure. I had almost given him up as 'another one of those' when he sent me his manuscript some two years later. I was delighted. Later when I found out that he had just finished writing them whilst engaged in his full-time legal practice, and that these were not stories he had written years ago, I was gobsmacked. He was certainly not going to spend the next ten years congratulating himself and milking the glory from the one short story in SNW5. And Matthew is no one-hit-wonder. He is already working on his next book.
As Mohamed M Keshavjee, his very good friend, says in the afterword to the book, 'In this book, all ... characters talk to us. The author captures the very essence of their being ... and their little games in life ...' In Tales from the Court are little anecdotes of little people, much like in the works of RK Narayan or Jorge Amado, and not grand narratives. This is a book by Malaysians for Malaysians. Matthew refuses to pander.
Tales from the Court is the second book in Silverfish Books' Malaysian Literature in English series. And Malaysian literature, it is. This is what we hope to be doing from now on: complete books by Malaysian authors. Currently we have six more in our line-up. Yes, we are not prolific. We prefer to take our time, work with authors and produce books they can live with, and we can live with. How many more Matthew Thomases are there out there? Please raise your right hand and step forward. We need more of you.
Our aims are modest -- about a dozen or more Malaysian authors producing good books consistently should boost the industry. Win prizes? Why not? A Commonwealth Writers' Prize for the South East Asia and South Pacific region is certainly not inconceivable. The Booker? Okay, I am going to let fly on something that I have kept bottled up for a while now:
Page 90, Inheritance of Loss by Kiran Desai, Atlantic Monthly Press, 2005.
'Bomnabhai's wife's earlobes, lengthened with the weight of South African diamonds, so great, so heavy, that one day, from one ear, an earring ripped through, a meteor disappearing with a bloody clonk into her bowl of srikhand.'
Earring? Meteor? If ever there was a schoolgirl simile ... Okay, give her an 'A' for her composition ... clever Form Five schoolgirl ... but a Man Booker? What were they thinking? Is this the epitome of English prose today? (I can imagine the cattiness in the room after the results were announced and she went up to receive her prize ...)
There is more. The book is full of it -- silly similes and stereotypes. (Is there some kind of competition going on, about who can come up with the silliest?)
Anyone surprised why I cannot read books like this anymore? VS Naipaul got it right: '... Indian Writers in English (IWE's) are responsible for creating a body of literature in exile mainly written by writers and read by readers living abroad ...' Yes I know, European and American readers like this shit, it confirms their stereotype and ignorance, and writers make a lot of money. But, again ... a Man Booker? If anyone wrote that at a Silverfish Writing Programme, I will tell them to 'go and take a shower'. (BTW, a customer told us that this book is in the chick-lit section in one major bookshop. Padan muka.)
Gosh, I am making myself all depressed again.
So, while we look forward to rubbishing this year's winner let's go on to the next good thing that happened to me recently. I got my Malaysian International Passport renewed in one hour and fifty-five minutes. Yes, you read that right. They promise a two-hour service with the new kiosks at Pusat Bandar Damansara. I had to test it. It works. Oh boy, does it work. Finally, something in this country works as promised. No form filling, nothing. One passport photo, photocopy of IC, original IC, old passport, two minutes in front of the touch-screen kiosk, and collect your new passport two hours later. Guess what? No queues.
Cool.
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Sorry I missed you when I was in KL recently, but Seksan's ended around 7:45, a lot later than anyone had planned and everyone was starving. It was good seeing you when you came my way to Kuching!
Robert
It is always a pleasure to read you. However, I do disagree over here where you said:
"Indian Writers in English (IWE's) are responsible for creating a body of literature in exile mainly written by writers and read by readers living abroad ...' Yes I know, European and American readers like this shit, it confirms their stereotype and ignorance, and writers make a lot of money."
These are my observations:
I think, simply if for the fact that Indian writers in exile are categorized together and stereotyped in this way; then I disagree. I feel this cannot be further from the truth. Some write to exploit a market...that is true, many plots are obvious with their heavy pretensions and lush words, that is also true.
But Indian writers have come a long way from that time in the 1990s when many newer faces stepped to the fore with sober stories of emigration that simply had to be told.
In living abroad, everything about a homeland lost through history or nostalgia may tend through extreme longing pose itself either a little darkly, be tenderly exaggerated or failing all, offer itself as interesting fodder for the imagination. This is not a fault, just a different aspect to humanity.
Many writers still have strong ties that link them to the Indian sub-continent and I do believe that with the exception of a few, these writers write with the utmost sincerity.
There has been a maturity and new elegance with Indian writers who no longer feel a need to eploit on issues they may have compelled to sketch on with neurotic passion in the past. Rather, their writing is now a little more graceful, avant-garde with its thematic factors, contemplative in its mullings, quieter and more self-contained. There is a daring form of experimentation, there is a stronger form of individuality.
Indian writing has already established itself in the world, there no longer is a need to make oneself heard dramatically or to fight for one's place. The market will always be there, and this feature comprises of both Indian writers writing from India and different generational stories that pop up worldwide.
A newer sophistication is now heralded. This evident at the first instance if I may quote an example with Jhumpa Lahiri's Unaccustomed Earth, her newest collection of short stories as compared with her first body of work which was the Pulitzer-Prize winning Interpreter of Maladies.
You may view the vast difference in themes and reflective questions posed in her stories.
So too with Vikas Swarup who has just produced a crime thriller in London. He has moved away completely from the usual literary genre from his first novel on India, titled Q&A.
In the present thriller, Swarup expounds on India's caste system for an easy successful benefit.
In Malaysia, we tend to see literary prizes in a reverential way. In the UK today in 2008, it is fashionable to shun them.
Firstly, there are way too many prizes these days for the majority of serious readers and writers, to take them too seriously. Secondly, the UK market has grown very competitive and very very tough. There is a need for higher experimental forms and unusual raconteur forms with regards to contemporary writings or else with the dependancy on classics that continue to stay vogue. Even the obscure classics are now resurrected in playful colourful ways. Thrillers of one kind or another stay safe. Thirdly, everyone knows that prizes are subjective depending on the personalities of judges chosen for any one award for the said year.
A British poster did comment in the Guardian Books Blog more than a year ago that he thought Kiran Desai's winning title to be nothing more than teenage fiction. I think by your description, that you have echoed the same sentiments. :-)
Yet, her writing is not reflective of the next South Asian writer's work.
I believe the UK is already moving away very gradually from Asian historical fiction. This may explain why - and I have been present in the region on both occasions - when Rani Manicka first came out with The Rice Mother in September 2002, there was such a big splash worldwide. And so too, with Tash Aw's The Harmony Silk Factory in March 2005. However, by the momentum of UK publishing time when it comes to trends and popular acceptances, this is already considered "a long time ago."
Forget the merit of literary acumen at this juncture.
Preeta Samarasan's debut in the UK has been dismal. However, stunning her writing in Evening is the Whole Day, it did not take off in the UK or to be more honest, up to now still has not taken off.
A hardback doesn't help in the summer months when everyone is rushing off on holiday, ferrying paperbacks. Many first time books are now in tradeback. All of which are extremely easy to lug around, compared to the hardback. It would have sold better had it come out in September (autumn/winter months) or March (spring).
(I also have other reasons on hand but will not list them here.)
But one thing that convinces me that we simply cannot stereotype writers, is that while Samarasan stays popular in the States, the British book-buyers haven't offered her up as a talking point besides, the usual few in the media who receive a copy of her book, who are obliged to read and review it and a few other serious readers etc. If what you said was true, Raman, she would have sold out by now. Samarasan's title has also not arrived here in Dublin whereas other Indian writers who are published in the UK markets are straightaway sold in Irish bookstores. So Samarasan in these last few months has already lost the Irish market as well. And believe me, it is a big book-buying market. She now has to forge ahead either on her own or with the help of her publishers, with aggressive promotions. That is the only way. A stagnant website with occasional updates simply isn't enough in the competitive British and European publishing markets in 2008.
With the exception of Lahiri with her beautiful graceful style and a few others, most Indian writers who are published in America just aren't received with the same warmth in the UK as they would be in the States. The UK market is funny like that; protective in the most subtle way of its own Indian writers the first time round - meaning those published first of all in the UK and not first of all in the States. The UK market is also tricky and demanding of new complexities in the stories of South Asian writers in this day and age. They are most likely in 2008 to reject the familiar emigration story and expect something more challenging.
However having said this, the British and European and also Australian markets are great loyalists. They will somehow stay loyal to Indian writers already published with them. In this way, Rani Manicka and Tash Aw (although he is Malaysian-Chinese) already have their place. Of course, the fact that they had excellent distribution and awareness in the first instance, will always help. That's why too, they are so tolerant of Rushdie's ever finicky and eccentric prose.
V.S. Naipaul is seen as a relic. He wrote at a different time and age and I doubt very much that he would be familiar with the British publishing of South Asian titles in the new millennium unless it is a big news-piece that may stare out at him from the papers.
Just a few thoughts,
regards, Raman
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Thursday, March 13, 2008
Let there be paper
Randy Alfred writes in the Wired News that it was this week one thousand nine hundred and three years ago, that is on the 11 of March, 105 CE, that the eunuch Tsai Lun (Cai Lun) showed his 'invention' of paper to the Han emperor Ho Ti (or He Di) of China. And with that the emperor's court became no longer paperless. The rest is history, like they say. Tsai Lun, of course, lied because archaeological evidence show that people in northwest China were making paper two centuries before Tsai Lun introduced it to the court. But on paper, Tsai Lun invented paper. Still credit must be given to Tsai Lun for improving, standardizing and refining the process, using new materials and establishing a Chinese paper industry.
Most people probably know that the word 'paper' comes from 'papyrus', a plant found in Egypt along the Nile River. About 5,000 years ago, Egyptians would use 'sheets' of papyrus made by harvesting, peeling and slicing the plant into strips, and then layered, pounded and smoothed to make a flat, uniform sheet. For 3000 years there were no major changes in writing material until the Chinese started using paper. (Now we have the computer.)
The first Chinese paper was made from sodden hemp waste, beaten to a pulp with a wooden tool and stretched over a coarsely woven cloth sieve on a bamboo frame. Instead of hemp, Tsai used pulp from bamboo and the inner bark of the mulberry. He also experimented with the bark of other trees, as well as linen rags and fishnets.
The invention of paper was crucial in the development of the Chinese civilization since it facilitated its spread much faster through widespread use of literature and literacy. (Tell that to the ignoramuses who run Malaysia.) Future Chinese emperors would make paper a tool for imperial administration and the diffusion of knowledge. The Chinese further advanced paper-making process including the invention of a quick-release mould for more production speed, and the use of starch as a filler.The official biography of Tsai Lun, written in China, says: In ancient times writings and inscriptions were generally made on tablets of bamboo or on pieces of silk called chih. But silk being costly and bamboo heavy, they were not convenient to use. Tsai Lun [Cai Lun] then initiated the idea of making paper from the bark of trees, remnants of hemp, rags of cloth, and fishing nets. He submitted the process to the emperor in the first year of Yuan-Hsing and received praise for his ability. From this time, paper has been in use everywhere and is universally called 'the paper of Marquis Tsai'.
The emperor Ho Ti (or He Di) was so pleased with Tsai Lun that he promoted him and granted the eunuch an aristocratic title and great wealth.
Tsai Lun was born in Ch'en-chou during the Eastern Han Dynasty around 50 CE. He stared serving as a court eunuch in 75 CE, and in 89 CE he was promoted by Emperor Ho Ti with the title of Shang Fang Si (officer in charge of manufacturing instruments and weapons). In 105 CE, Tsai Lun (with help of imperial consort, Deng) invented the composition for paper along with the paper-making process. In 114 CE, following his invention, Tsai Lun was given the title of Marquis. It was later that he became involved in intrigue, as a supporter of Empress Dou, and became involved in the death of her romantic rival, Consort Song. In 121 CE, after Consort Song's grandson Emperor An assumed power after Empress Deng's death, and Tsai was ordered to report to prison. But before that, he committed suicide by drinking poison, apparently, after taking a bath and dressing in fine robes. (All of which has nothing to do with paper, but I am intrigued by the enormous power of these guys wielded -- and they didn't even have nuts.)
Paper-making remained a closely guarded secret until it spread to Korea in the sixth century, and to Japan in the seventh. The technology then spread westwards to Tibet and Central Asia. In 751 CE Arabs captured some Chinese paper-makers after Tang troops were defeated in the Battle of Talas River between Arab Abbasid Caliphate and the Chinese Tang Dynasty, and paper started being produced in Samarkand. In the year 794 CE, a paper mill was built in Baghdad. Paper-making continued westward, and the first paper mill was built in Europe in 1150 CE. (Another significance of The Battle of River Talas, as told by Russian historian Vasily Bartold was, "... undoubtedly of great importance in the history of (Western) Turkestan as it determined the question which of the two civilizations, the Chinese or the Muslim, should predominate in the land (of Turkestan)." In other words it caused the decline of Tang influence in Central Asia and switched authority to the Abbasids, Tibetans, or Uighurs and the introduction of Islam among the Turkic peoples. Other historians give it much less significance, apart from the paper making thing.)
Then in 1448 CE, Johannes Gutenberg invented the printing press.
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Thursday, February 28, 2008
Writing as a career choice
There are two issues here. The first one is whether one can make money from creative writing. I wrote in a 'news' entry some time ago quoting a story from The Independent called Pulped Fiction: "... According to the report the average author in the UK earns about GBP16,000 (a little over RM108,000) a year, a third less than the national average wage. Enough if one was living in Malaysia, I guess. But if the superstars are removed from the sums, the actual figure comes closer to GBP4000 (RM 27,000) a year, hardly enough to live in KL. In Britain this is reckoned to be insufficient for stale bread for breakfast and a tarpaulin for shelter." You can read it here.
The other issue is parents. When does an (outwardly) perfectly normal, peaceful-looking individual become a parent from hell? In a government school, I have heard that it happens when his son gets punished for bullying another pupil and then proceeds to beat up the teacher who reprimands him, whereupon he (the parent from hell) proceeds to the school, assaults the teacher himself, shouts at the headmaster who tries to intervene, and then threatens to sue the school, the Ministry and the Government. In a private (or international) school, on the other hand, I have been told that the parent from hell will demand to know why his daughter, who has never scored less than 98 marks in her exam paper, got only 97 this time, one mark less than her clearly inferior classmate, a daughter of a rival to boot, and will then proceed to berate the said teacher and the principle because he has paid a lot of money for his daughter's education.
Different value systems, I guess.
(I don't recall my father ever coming to my school during my time except on the first day of year one. I don't recall ever seeing my friends' parents either. I suppose, that would be classified as the other extreme.)
As a bookseller I meet parents too, but not that many. Mostly, they inquire about reading material for their children or books for school assignments. Some ask about the Writing Programme which, I proceed to tell them, I do not recommend to those still in school because it might interfere with their school work (or even contradict what their teachers tell them). But I had a rather curious and an extremely annoying encounter recently.
I came in after lunch one day to find two people waiting for me: a nineteen-year-old and her father. I was told that they had been waiting for me for a while and had insisted on speaking to me about publishing. Now if there is one thing I don't like, it is the unannounced first visit about publishing. It puts both parties in an awkward situation, and generally ends leaving a bad taste in the mouth. I even dread telephone solicitation for similar reasons. I prefer to receive an email, whereupon I would normally request for a synopsis and about twenty pages of their writing (also by email) before deciding if a meeting would be worthwhile. I have had authors walk in here and 'offer' me their manuscripts, stuff I am not interested in, or in really badly written ones, for thousands of dollars. Some will try the heavy 'Tupperware sales-lady' approach. Some will try and turn on their nauseating charm and give me diabetes on the spot. Some will, practically, demand that I publish their books, period. They are shocked when I tell them that I don't publish certain types of books like self-help or management or some such. Often I have to lie. (I cannot tell them the only thing I really want to say: that their writing is plain bad.) I have been scolded by would be authors who cannot understand why I would not let them use the 'Silverfishbooks' imprint even if they are willing to pay for printing costs. Generally, few of these meetings end very pleasantly for everyone.
So I did freak a little at this little visitation. But nevertheless, I felt obliged to agree. (Why are people allowed to get away with taking advantage of one's hospitality?) We just want some advice from you because my daughter likes writing, the father said. So we went into the office.
He said that he wanted his daughter to be a writer, because he thought that it was a good way of making money and that his daughter had written a bunch of poems (typical schoolgirl moon-June-spoon variety, I later learned) and wanted to know if it could be published. (So much for the advice bit, I sighed inwardly.) I told him that nobody ever got rich writing poetry because it did not sell. "Yes," he said he understood. He had heard that Malaysians read little. What if we marketed it internationally, he wanted to know? I told him that the same was the case all over the world, unless his name was Seamus Heaney.
"Oh. So what type of book sells?"
"If you really want to know, romances," I said. "Real bodice-splitting romances. With lots of sex. But we don't publish those."
"Why not? If they sell, why don't you publish them?"
"We are not interested in that kind of stuff, that's all. They are mostly badly written, in any case. Anyway, there are other publishers who do that."
He kept badgering me for a while more on that. I was sure he had no idea what he was talking about. Did he really want his daughter to write that kind of stuff?
"But I want her to write something that will sell," he finally said.
"Look if you are thinking about your daughter taking up writing for money, I think you should forget about it right now. If your daughter wants to write, she should write. Not for the money but because she wants to. And, if she does happen to make money, good for her. Anyway, a survey shows that authors of most bestsellers are in their fifties. She is still young."
Then he said, "Unless you are deaf, dumb and blind, everyone knows how much money JK Rowling makes."
Oh God! Not another one!
"How many JK Rowlings, are there?"
"One." He looked puzzled.
"What is the population of the world?"
"I don't know ... several billions."
"So, the chances of your daughter becoming another JK Rowling is one in several billions. Now, if you go downstairs and buy a lottery, the chances of you winning the first prize is one in three million. Wouldn't that be much better? Anyway your daughter has not even started writing."
He wouldn't let go for a while. Then he relented. "What advice will you give her if she wants to write?"
"Read," I said.
"Yes, yes," he said impatiently. "But what does she have to do if she wants to write?"
"She could attend a writing course," I said, "but I wouldn't advise it for her now. Not yet. She has to start reading first. She has to start reading widely. All the classics, all the modern masters." I looked at the girl, who had been quiet all this while. A pleasant teenager, well on the way to adulthood, polite, a bit shy, but obviously intelligent -- she seemed to understand what I was trying to say. "What are you reading now?" I asked. From the way she hesitated I realised that she clearly was not.
"What was the last book you read?" She mentioned an author which sounded like one of those that teenagers read. I smiled at her and told her that, if she wanted to be a writer, she had to read very widely, preferably before she decided what she wanted to write about. I mentioned a few names, some she had heard and some she hadn't.
The father was decidedly unhappy with my diversion and harangued me a little more before I told him finally that there was little money in writing and that writers on average, probably, earned less than bricklayers. His daughter should write, by all means, if that is what she wanted to do, but forget about making lots of money.
That was the end of my meeting with the parent from hell. They left after a while, but not before someone heard the father muttering under his breath, "She can't spend all her time reading now and start writing only after she is fifty."
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But I think there is a silver lining to the story, at least the little girl now has some idea of how much reading she needs to do to become a writer (if at all she wants to later). Because if there is one regret I have is that I did not read enough, and not widely enough.
Writing is not for the money. Never. And i strongly agree with you on this matter.
P.S: See ya next Saturday at class. :D
you're doing a very good job fighting that corner.
: 9:54 PMhttp://www.jamesabela.co.uk/Lit/index.html
I hope it helps a bit...
James
Although I agree with reading,
I recently skimmed through something about Americans reading less yet managing to come up with some really good work. Maybe it is partly due to talent after all.
Plus, one of my fav writers,
Jhumpa Lahiri had her first book out at 32.
As for copywriter and journalist, I am both. Copywriting can defintely pay for the rent and more. But like any job I suppose it's how much of your life you'd like to give up.
: 1:52 AMYou could protect your publishing space by having a little column on your website to say to aspiring authors...no unsolicited manuscripts received. no phone calls or visits entertained. enquire by e-mail first. And then add what you'd expect to see in the email.
Most of the publishing authority here in Europe do it this way. Unless they're on first name terms, they stay extremely firm about their privacy especially when in the initial instance and they make no bones about it.
Your website's looking great by the way, Raman.
regards
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Monday, December 31, 2007
A literary blogger shuts down
Edward Champion continues, "... Reluctant was more of a chore. Often a thankless one. A daily grind in which I regularly asked myself why I wasn’t putting this kind of energy into the novel I’ve been working on …"
Personally, I do not read the blogs of any kind. This has become a point of contention, unfortunately. Blogging is the in-thing, if not a very new thing. (Sometimes it looks like bloggers outnumber readers. Or, are they one and the same?) Will you read my blog? used to be one of the most frequently asked question directed at me. (Now it is, Will you join my Facebook? Or some such.) I have decided to respond to all this with a completely non-committal smile, now. I used to tell them that I didn't have the time but after seeing some of the shocked expressions to my answer, like I had just confessed to murdering a favourite aunt or something, I have decided to change tactics. I have become aware of other thing in the blogosphere as well. There are lots of 'blog cliques' out there and they, apparently, can get quite vicious. So by not reading any blog, I can try to keep equidistant, or so I think. But that has not stopped some parties from believing that I should side with their 'righteous' cause, as oppose to the 'lies' spread by some others. So, it has been a 'no win' for me.
I believe, from the way people talk, that blogs can get quite addictive. Before I do anything I ask myself, 'Why do I want to do this?' If I cannot get a satisfactory answer, I don't do it. Simple. (That’s why I don't play golf -- no good answer, but a lot of bad ones). I am sure there is some interesting stuff out there for some people -- as I am sure there is one on Tiddlywinks -- but I really cannot afford to get screen-sucked into anything right now, or any time in the foreseeable future. (Though some may say that, being the egomaniac I am, I prefer my own opinions – and every one knows just how opinionated I am!) I also have a short attention span.
Anyway, I was curious about Reluctant. So I decided to look at the comments on the last posting to see what the big deal was. Here are some comments:
Who will keep the New York Times Book Review on its toes, now?
How dare you ruin my morning ritual of reading lit blogs and drinking coffee! I might take up smoking in its stead.
Aw, damn. you're one of my favorite cranks.
... Anyway, bettter you sweat and strain over stuff that pays than that which don't ...
There are plenty more ... (yawn) but I just got tired.
The Return of the Reluctant
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i read you. you're addictive.
yeah, you must be a blog.
welcome back,anyway.
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Thursday, November 29, 2007
How lucrative is it to be a writer in Nigeria?
This is just what Henry Akubuiro wonders in the Sunday Sun and basically arrives at the conclusion that it is not. Why that should be a surprise, we don't know. From an article we read not too long ago in the Independent called Pulped Fiction (in April 2007) the average writer in the UK (if you remove the superstars from the list makes money "insufficient for stale bread for breakfast and a tarpaulin for shelter." Read it here. Getting on with the story, Henry Akubuiro starts the article by saying, "... More than other artists from the arts, creative writers have brought more joy to Nigeria, with literary giants like Chinua Achebe and Wole Soyinka, to mention a few, winning international renown and prizes, having their bestsellers translated into many foreign languages, and thereby promoting our cultural heritage ... Compared to the Nigerian musician or actor, the Nigerian writer, despite his intellectual edge, is taking the backseat as far as financial fortunes are concerned."
Further down the article he continues, "... Nigerian publishers are not helping matters, too. For most of them, their work stops at the point when the books are rolled out from the press. They do little or none of promoting and marketing their authors. A few of them who attempt doing this only rely on book reviews on newspaper arts pages instead of advertising their books as is the norm in the western world."
And more revealingly, he quotes Hyacinth Obunseh, currently assistant secretary of the Association of Nigerian Authors (ANA) and doubles as the CEO of Hybun, a publishing outlet that has published many new Nigerian writers, who says that the reason "our writers (are) not making money (is due) to the fact that publishers themselves are not making money."
His is the conclusion of the pessimist: "Judging from the foregoing, the creative writer in Nigeria is only a few steps removed from becoming an endangered species." This is, indeed, sad considering how Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart has sold 10 million copies worldwide (but is, reportedly, 'banned' from entering this country though it has been used for literature text by several schools for years. Go figure. This is Malaysia. Given this aggressive anti-intellectualism, is it a surprise that no Malaysian University is in the top 200 in the world?)
Full story: http://www.sunnewsonline.com/webpages/features/literari/2007/nov/18/literari-18-11-2007-001.htm
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http://www.quatloos.com/cm-niger/nigerian_scam_letter_museum.htm
: 9:32 PM<< Home
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Life after the first fruit
I have always been intrigued by Jeanette Winterson, firstly by her book titles -- Oranges are not the only fruit, Boating for Beginners, Sexing the Cherry, etc -- and secondly by the fact that they are not huge tomes. Still, I have not read her. Sharon would say, that's because I don't like to read women writers. I did think about that. The last women writer I read was Diane Setterfield. I did enjoy The Thirteenth Tale. But do I consider the sex of the author before I set out to read a book? I don't think so. Surely not at the conscious level, though pseudo-Freudians may disagree.But that's not what this is about. I was reading Jeanette Winterson's article in The Guardian earlier this month. She starts: 'It is impossible to begin at the beginning. Any scientist can tell you what happened in the first three seconds after the Big Bang, but none can say for sure what happened in the three seconds previous ... So it is with fiction.'
We glibly throw about theories on creative writing. Can it be taught, can it be learnt? I belong to the school that says it cannot be taught, but it can be learnt, given the right motivation and environment. Yes, it is about going within and pulling out that illusive rabbit, so to speak. Strangely, you only know what happens after the rabbit is pulled out. The writer will, in all probability, not be able to explain how exactly it happened, or when precisely it did. But it does not matter (except for those trying to learn your 'magic', and the harder they try the more difficult it will be for them). 'The fact is that before something happens there is no knowing what is happening ...' says Jeanette Winterson.
Jeanette Winterson says further on: in The PowerBook (2000), I wrote: "I can change the story. I am the story." This was because I had been thinking about how much better it might be to read ourselves as fictional narratives, instead of as a bloated CV of chronological events. Once we surrender ourselves to the tyranny of facts, it is difficult to re-find freewill.
I often have had people walk into the shop, bellowing pompously, declaring that they 'don't read fiction', as if it is something done by lower beings. I remain silent, but in my mind, I think, 'How sad.'
A short while ago I picked up the latest Orhan Pamuk book in English, Other Colours. Coincidently the first essay in the book, The Implied Author, is also about his life as a novelist. 'In order to be happy, I must have my daily dose of literature,' he writes. 'In this I am no different from ... (a diabetic who needs) an injection everyday (to survive) ... I have sometimes even entertained the thought that I was fully dead and trying to breathe some life back into my corpse with literature.'But like Winterson he is unable to describe the three seconds before the Big Bang either except that 'we surrender to this mysterious captain who has no idea where he is bound.' Like Ulysses? 'For what is a novel,' he continues further on, 'but a story that fills its sails with these winds ...'
'For thirty years I have spent ten hours in a room, sitting at my desk.' It is a wonderful essay, quite worth the price of admission for the entire book if you, like Pamuk, must have your dose of literature each day in order to be happy.
http://books.guardian.co.uk/review/story/0,,2204212,00.html
Labels: Writing
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Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Thai, Arab, Burmese, Kenyan and Japanese reading and writing
A European Union report on reading habits found the Czech's averaged 16 books a year, the highest in Europe and probably in the world. Do Vietnamese and Singaporeans read three to four times more than that? Where the hell does the PUBAT president get his figures from? Bet he doesn't read and has no idea how long it takes to read a book. The same probably applies to the newspaper reporter who wrote the story. How glibly people throw numbers about. http://nationmultimedia.com/2007/10/18/headlines/headlines_30052875.php
Then there was the story about the Arabic writing debate as reported in the New Statesman. In his latest book, Why Are the Arabs Not Free ? Moustapha Safouan brings up the question of the type of Arabic writers should use. Apparently, the disparity between written and spoken Arabic is so great that writers can’t decide which to use. If he were to use the vernacular, it would be all but impossible for him to include sophisticated arguments and deep thoughts. But if he were to use the more formal written language he runs the risk of sounding pompous and rhetorical and, probably, will fail to reach the masses given the high level of illiteracy in the Arab world.
This is an old argument and it is also taking place in every country with a language police. We have heard it before. Some insist that there is only one way Bahasa can be written (though they have done several somersaults and back-flips and u-turns in the past fifty years and will probably continue to do so in the future) and everyone else not caring. Guess who will win? Are people writing in dialect incapable of projecting sophisticated emotions and deep thoughts? This appears like another excuse for keeping writing and reading in the hands of the elite. The inquisition ended in Europe several centuries ago but the debates appear to be still alive in many other parts of the world. http://www.newstatesman.com/200710180049
Then in Burma, 'Scratching poems on cell floors, or making ink from the brick powder of the walls, Burmese writers have managed to continue writing despite imprisonment and censorship,' Aida Edemariam reports in the Guardian
Yes, the feature is corny, mawkishly romantic and melodramatic to the max - but that's simply another example of 'past-colonial' writing for you. (She should sell her story to Hollywood. They love that kind of shit.) We all agree that it is a cruel and repressive regime but there is no need to get all gooey and mushy about it. Still, if you manage to get past all that, there are some interesting (and disturbing) facts in the article.
'International PEN, the global writer's association is currently campaigning for the release of nine writers serving sentences ranging from seven to 21 years. Aung Than and Zeya Aung, who wrote a book of verses called Daung Mann (or The Pride of the Peacock) received sentences of 19 years apiece last June for writing "anti-government poems'. Their printer received 14 years, and their distributor seven.
'The censorship office's 11 guidelines for what cannot be printed still include "anything that might be harmful to national solidarity and unity ... any incorrect ideas which do not accord with the times ... [and] any descriptions which, though factually correct, are unsuitable because of the time or the circumstance of their writing ...' (That sounds awfully familiar for some reason. Was there something like it in Amir's book?)
'Yet the regime has not been able to dent the liveliness of Burma's literary culture. Because of a system of education (that) runs through the monasteries, literacy levels - unlike in many similarly totalitarian states in the developing world - are high. The educational system, which forces the brightest high-school graduates into medicine, is also gender-blind ...’ (Well, that is good news at least.) http://books.guardian.co.uk/print/0,,330945136-118740,00.html
Then in Kenya, the debate has shifted to the quality of reading materials, the tired discussion on whether Kenyans read or do not read. Ms Muthoni Garland, a writer turned publisher, believes Kenyans love reading but there is lack of good reading materials from local writers. She says some (local) books are so appalling that few would spend their hard-earned money on them ... "While there are many good oral story-tellers who can captivate and entertain an audience, we are challenged when it comes to writing stories ..." Most publishing companies merely churn out textbooks. http://www.eastandard.net/archives/?mnu=details&id=1143976395&catid=316
And, finally, in Japan literary magazines, the 'home' of pure literature, are at a turning point. 'The magazines are welcoming young novelists as well as writers of entertaining works, and they are also opening up to talented people in other fields, including playwrights, film directors and illustrators ...' the report from Ashahi Simbun says. http://www.asahi.com/english/Herald-asahi/TKY200710200056.html
Obviously we do not live alone in this world.
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Sunday, October 14, 2007
The tipping point
The comments about the end of the Silverfish New Writing series didn't take long in coming. We have heard that discussions have been taking place on several other blog spots too. Our initial decision was not to make any comment, because no matter what we said there would be people unhappy with it. But we realise that we have some really very good friends out there, those who have supported us through the years, believed in what we were trying to do, and who genuinely don't have a personal agenda. So this explanation is for them. (There will be some who still don't 'get it', but that is a risk we take.) When we were kids we would go swimming at the 'garrison pool'. What we meant by swimming then, was basically splashing about at the shallow end with the occasional foray towards the deep side, holding on to the side rails. Showing off to the girls (notwithstanding our gawky, skinny torsos) and taking them out for heavily sugared drinks or ais-kacang afterwards was the high point of it all. Sometimes we would watch with a mixture of admiration and envy at some people doing the laps, knowing somehow that was what real swimming was about.
When we published Silverfish New Writing 1 in 2001, we said that it would be fantastic if only one or two writers emerged from it. ('Writers' has become a sensitive word -- so henceforth we shall change that to 'authors'.) We reckoned that if we have about fifteen or twenty authors (what is the tipping point, anyway?) producing good stuff regularly, the whole industry would take on a much healthier glow and, perhaps, even attract international attention.
After seven years and seven books in the SNW series and two other anthologies, not one Malaysian 'lapper' has emerged. (Internationally, we only know of Gary Lamoshi, an American living in Hong Kong, whose novel-in-progress was featured in Collateral Damage, and whose full length novel, Hong Kong on Air, has just been published. We are not counting several others who were already published authors before they started sending their work in for SNW.) Yes, the New Writing series has touched many people in many ways and it has resulted in (if we allowed ourselves to be so immodest) a slight seismic shift in the local literary scene. However, no matter how precious we feel about it, it has not produced the desired result. The SNW series, instead of becoming a means, a stepping-stone leading towards an end, has become an end itself. It is seen as a competition, no matter how many times we emphasise that it is not. That, to us, is a bit sad. Results do count. So, instead of behaving like some of our government and quasi-government departments that carry on doing the same thing despite forty or fifty years of abject failure, we have decided to move on. To use a quote from Dan Quayle: if we don't succeed, we run the risk of failure.
We are still, very much, committed to our original vision. The most frequent question we have asked ourselves is, "Why have no 'lappers' emerged from the SNW series?" Are our standards really too high, as some have told us? We think not. If anything, we feel we are no where near the standards we would like to achieve. All we do is to insist on a cetain minimum quality, that's all. Maybe, we cannot simply throw people into the deep end and expect them to start swimming, let alone do the laps. Publishers in this country, especially in the absence of literary agents and such, need to do more. Much more. And that is the philosophy behind our new initiative. This programme is only a year old but we are already coming out with the first book -- three new writers, three different voices, with ten selected stories apiece. The wonderful thing is that, they are all young (in their thirties), they all have full-time galley-slave type day-jobs with absurdly long hours, they are at an advanced stage with their own second book, and they will be the first to admit that they still have a long way to go. And none of them is your 'usual suspect'! For years the media has been asking us about the 'next big thing'. The book, News from Home, should be out at the end of the month. Read it with an open mind and decide.
While writing is about being creative, it is also about being aware of what readers and publishers are looking for (without going into silly areas like instant nirvana, instant health or instant wealth -- we will leave that for others), be it fiction or non-fiction. (We are several light-years away from 'art for the sake of art', so let's not even go there.) Apart from tapping into the genius within, it is about developing a writer’s temperament. It is about digging in. And it is about doing the laps. Publishers cannot simply sit back and wait for it to happen. (Unfortunately most will prefer others to do all the hard work). They can make it happen. But for that they need to work very closely with writers, make long-term commitments (not instant wealth), but without stifling individuality or creativity.
Anyway News from Home, which will be published end of this month or early next, is our first report card. We have decided that this is a far more efficient way of developing local writers than the SNW series, though, admittedly, we will have to confine ourselves to the Klang Valley for the moment. Not everyone will make it, many will drop off, some will not be interested in becoming 'lappers', some will do different forms of writing, and many will be happy being 'splashers'. But that is fine. It is the role, nay the duty even, of the schoolteacher to encourage and work with the weakest students in the class. A publisher is only interested in the top of the class. We make no apologies for that.
If we produce just one, two or three 'lappers' a year, we think we will be working towards that elusive tipping point. We are still hopeful.
Or, are we simply kidding ourselves?
Labels: Writing
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: 9:35 PMWhen the SNW series was started in 2001 it was meant to include only writers from Singapore and Malaysia. But submissions started coming in from all over. So we decided to include them as well (for which we have also been criticised because 'they have more than enough publishers to send their stuff to'). We dare say it raised the bar a little and spurred on local writers to work harder. We appreciate, and are grateful, for that. Anyway, all submissions were evaluated 'blind' by the editors. Identities of the writers were only revealed after the selection. So there, definitely, was no discrimination.
We are glad that your early inclusion in the series has encouraged you to be a 'lapper' and wish you the very best, but we don't understand why you used a nom de plume - name recognition is everything in writing.
The primary aim of Silverfish Books is to promote reading and writing in English in Malaysia. We welcome any help towards that end, but we make no apologies for it.
It rekindled the reading habit which I had almost completely lost over the years. Since then i have gone on to look for other short story series. I may not have read so many, but while searching, titles I would come across would be "Malaysian Short Sories", "Arabic Short Stories", " Japanese Short Stories"...you get the drift. Most collections are like CD albums of a particular artiste - a 'rocker' CD with rock songs, Jazz CD with all that jazz, (again, you get my drift). But Silverfish to me as a reader was like the billboard - the best picks of all genres.
Perhaps 7 years is too short for "lappers" to appear. Meanwhile, "splashers" could be motivated enough to carry on and rise as those lauded 'lappers" and meanwhile, we could all benefit from good stories which have some standard at least. Stories which a reader enjoys and thinks - "i have stories to be heard too" - and carries on to become a writer himself (or herself). Stories from non-Malaysian writers broaden the range of styles. It also provides great networking and a chance for the Malaysian writer to "hook on" to other networks (and maybe someday reach international level). Everything has to start somewhere
In having an original goal, so many branches could develop along the way and turn out to be maybe even better than what was originally expected? Why be so guarded as to begin converging just to keep that focus if divergence had reaped desirable benefits? Why not have BOTH your collection of Malaysian writers AND have this wonderful melting pot as well? I guess eventually it all boils down to budget. Money IS the limiting factor isn't it? Sellability. It's a sad truth - for arts. - jh
: 8:30 AMI look forward to your "News from Home", though I have reservations about your statement "The wonderful thing is that, they are all young (in their thirties)". Writers belong to all ages and stages, shapes and sizes, colours and creeds. To be an older writer is wonderful too. I hope your new initiative will celebrate that as well...from mk
: 4:31 PM<< Home
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Write if you must, only if you absolutely must
Beginning: 'EVERYWHERE I turn, it seems, I see advertisements for writing courses, writing workshops, writing weekends, writing holidays. All of them promise to help participants polish their prose and carve out their characters ...'
Ending: '... It's not writing that should be encouraged but reading, widely and voraciously, reading the classics, reading the modern masters. That, if my university lecturers are right, is what will bring out the real writers among us. Magazine editors, publishers and writing competitions are groaning under the output of all those writing courses and I want to say stop. Stop if you can. And if you can't stop, write.'
Like in all stories different people will take away different parts from it to call their own. Here are some vignettes.
'What they (the multiplicity of courses) do is provide toolboxes, and with those toolboxes the vaguely talented often turn out the equivalent of high school carpentry projects: a procession of by-the-numbers breakfast trays and carved wooden animals.'
'Writing is not a good in itself that everyone should be encouraged to attempt, such as cycling to work or eating more broccoli ... Training and encouragement will not bring out the real writers. The threat of not writing will.'
And then I got cancer. Death threatened ... I had an epiphany: it didn't matter to me if I was any good as long as I wrote.
I know what you are thinking: "Wah, so drama ..." Nevermind. Read the article at: http://www.theaustralian.news.com.au/story/0,20867,21105051-5001986,00.html
Labels: Writing
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Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Everyone has a story to tell
Or, in the case of the participants of the Silverfish Writing Programme (SWP), some people have many stories to tell.
The first intake was in July, and since then over 30 participants have attended or are attending the Programme. One of the spin-offs of the SWP is The Silverfish Writer page at http://www.silverfishbooks.com/writer.html. We started this some weeks after the end of the first Programme. It was the usual dilemma: how to keep the momentum going after the course. The first group tried to form a writer's circle for a few weeks, and then gave up. They realised that it was almost impossible for everyone to be free at the same time on the same day? Geographical locations in the Klang Valley can be remote and the traffic (especially during the rainy season) quite daunting. We suggested an online writers group and The Silverfish Writer page was created with Silverfish Books as the facilitator. We hoped it would help but, to be honest, we were really not sure at all at that time.
For the last three-months we have kept it largely within the SWP community, so to speak. But we notice that the site has attracted others as well, with many helpful (and some not so helpful) comments. With the internet, that is to be expected.
Our decision was to post a story a week, and so far we have posted 12. (We have received over 20 and they keep coming in.) All the stories posted so far (and those in our queue) are from the SWP participants. They have been posted in, more or less, their 'raw' form, that is, with very little editing. Some of them still require more work, and all of them need to be edited and proofed. Many of the stories began as assignments. Many are well on their way to publishing their first book.
Not all stories are posted, however. We have also received several stories from none SWP participants. We have no objections to that at all. But so far we have not posted any of them. We have sent back stories for rewrites if, after reading (at least a couple of times) we feel, "Excuse me, what are you trying to say? What is your story about?" (In some cases, we feel there is a story in there somewhere but is obscured by the writer's own seeming attempt at cleverness.Our advice: keep it simple. If you are clever, it will show. Don't worry.)
Writers are, first and foremost, storytellers. They ply their trade by telling stories - as do dramatists, movie directors, singers, or even, dancers and painters. Writing by itself is only a tool - albeit a powerful one. They are like paints and brushes. Calling oneself a writer is like calling oneself a typist. It does not mean anything. Whether writers like to believe it or not, they belong in the entertainment industry. Stories are read for entertainment first. After that, if they are good enough (or great even) they become cultural markers. Ditto: movies, drama, paintings, etc.
The next intake for the Silverfish Writing Programme will resume on the 6th of January 2007 after a short break in December 2006. (Several people have already inquired about registration before this announcement. You may submit your registration now.) For more information about the Programme please visit: http://www.silverfishbooks.com/Silverfish/Version4/Writing/WrtitingProgramme.asp
Labels: Writing
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: 6:26 AMAlso wish the new writers well too. There is a lack of good writing, not just here but, it seems, everywhere these days. Take time and trouble in your craft, attend to details and remember that we all write to be read.
Keep up the good effort. May we see a significant improvement in Malaysian writing in the next few years:)
: 4:57 AM1. You'll suddenly realise and take note of everything that happens around you - like having a spidey sense of sort.
2. You'll start describing a particular action or scenario in full sentence, albeit not out loud.
3. You'll appreciate more on what life has to offer. Its the simple and mundane that makes it so beautiful!
So go ahead and invest that RM500 coz I tell ya, its money worth spending!
p/s - Warning! May be very addictive!
Kamarul
: 12:38 AM1. You'll suddenly realise and take note of everything that happens around you - like having a spidey sense of sort.
2. You'll start describing a particular action or scenario in full sentence, albeit not out loud.
3. You'll appreciate more on what life has to offer. Its the simple and mundane that makes it so beautiful!
So go ahead and invest that RM500 coz I tell ya, its money worth spending!
p/s - Warning! May be very addictive!
Kamarul
: 12:39 AM<< Home
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Why do people need stories?
I met Yasmin Ahmad and (veteran film maker) Dato L Krishnan during a function last week when the question arose, Why do we need stories? Why do people need stories?
Just look around us. We are saturated with stories. The fact that Malaysians don't read much does not count for anything. We are surrounded by stories. Everywhere. They are all around us. In books, in newspapers, in magazines, in movies, on television, and on radio. We write stories, we sing stories in songs, we tell them in drama, we draw them in paintings, we dance it … Thousands of stories are told every day, for thousands and thousands of listeners. We can live with very little to eat, but we cannot live without stories.Maybe it is because stories are about people's lives, and that's why they like to listen to it … we want to find out more about our lives, Yasmin said.
You think so? interjected Dato' Krishnan, How do you explain a five year old or even a two year old who likes to listen to stories sitting on his grandfather's lap or before he goes to sleep, and what does he know about life?
I guess we will never answer the 'why' question satisfactorily. But the fact remains, stories are a major part of our lives and throughout the ages storytellers have held the most important positions in society. Leading American writer Paul Auster, in a recent acceptance speech for the Prince of Asturias Prize for Letters, (Spain's premier literary award) argues that fiction is 'magnificently useless'. Magnificent, yes we can see that … but useless? Surely not. It is, perhaps, useless in a practical sense: we cannot eat it, it will not fix a leaking roof, or change the light bulb … but can any human live without it?
Paul Auster continues: This need to make, to create, to invent is, no doubt, a fundamental human impulse. But to what end? What purpose does art, in particular the art of fiction; serve in what we call the real world? … Some like to think that a keen appreciation of art can actually make us better people - more just, more moral, more sensitive, more understanding … art is useless, at least when compared, say, to the work of a plumber, or a doctor, or a railroad engineer. But is uselessness a bad thing? Does a lack of practical purpose mean that books and paintings and string quartets are simply a waste of our time?
Anyone who has seen the excitement in the eyes of the two year old sitting on a relative's lap, listening to a yarn unfold knows the answer to that.
We are human and we cannot live without stories. We are the only animals with this yearning. Yasmin then said, Do storytellers really create the stories, or do the stories already exist and the storyteller is merely the vehicle? It is a chicken and egg question, the answer to which is not important.What is important is that stories and art are our cultural genes, or memes - to use a word coined by Richard Dawkins in1979 - that make up our social DNA. And almost every aspect of a society can be found in these memes. In the Malaysian context, the legend of Hang Tuah's epic battle with Hang Jebat is probably the most prominent meme. That which splits Malaysians right down the middle even today - do you protest against an unjust ruler or rule, or uphold it because it comes from the ruler and it is the rule?
Another interesting Malaysian meme, for me, is from the Malay Annals - the story Singapura dilanda todak or the Swordfish attack on Singapore. This is quite similar to the Dutch story of a little boy who stuck his finger into a dike to stop a leak and as a result saved the country from flooding. Correct me if I am wrong, but I believe he became a hero in Holland after that. In the Malaysian version of this meme, this happened long before the time of the founding of Melaka in the 15th century, swordfish attack Singapore. People are attacked by this fish, pierced through their chest and stomach, and even decapitated. Many die. The Ruler orders his men to form a continuous row along the shoreline to kill the fish as they approach. But when the swordfish come many men needlessly perished when the fish attack their shins. Then one little boy watching this disaster said, Why are we making a barricade with our legs. Would it not be better if we used banana stems instead? When the Paduka Sri Maharaja (today he would be called the prime minister) heard this he said, Of course, the boy is right. And so they built a barricade of banana stems and the swordfish were defeated due to the ingenuity of a little boy.
In most versions, the story ends here. But in the actual account in the Sejarah Melayu, the Paduka Sri Maharaja goes back to the Ruler and tells him what happens. He also adds, The boy is very clever and when he grows up he will be a very clever man. Would it not be better to get rid of him now. The Ruler agrees and orders the boy to be put to death.
We still haven't stopped shooting messengers over seven hundred years after that event. Could that be the reason why we worship mediocrity like Akademi Fantasia so much? The reason for our major anti-intellectualism, perhaps?
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i chanced upon this site : www.memoirsofmalaysia.com. you may like it. you may not.
haha. akedemi fantasia. indeed.
: 7:10 AM