Monday, 19 March 2012
Yeo: Are You There Singapore?
Saturday, 17 March 2012
Alfian Sa'at's Plays
I wished I had caught at least one of these! (SIGH, uni student no time to watch plays SIGH) Anywho, if anything these two clips show you how versatile Alfian Sa'at is as a playwright. Asian Boys was his adaptation of the novel Peculiar Chris by Johann S.Lee. From the trailer, we see a more personal and vulnerable side. Whilst Cooling off day which just ended it's run at the Drama centre has been reviewed by Today as 'Asthma-inducing funny' showcases the unrelenting wit and humour that is in ingrained in most of Alfian Sa'at's work.
I am not too sure if Alfian has any other play of his coming up this season.. (there isn't any up on the wild rice website yet...) But if you are interested you should definitely check out the W!ld Rice page for information on upcoming plays!
Friday, 16 March 2012
A Review: Means to An End (2008)

A glance through the content page of Hsien Min’s latest collection of poetry reveals titles of poems that were distinctly Singaporean. ‘Hungry Ghost Month’, ‘Durians’, ‘Tiong Bahru’ immediately screamed “Singapore!” as well-known symbols of our culture. Other titles such as ‘Birth of the Modern City State’ and ‘Printing Money’ hints at political and economical undertones also linked to Singapore culture.
As this is a Singaporean Studies Literature module, I zoomed in on these poems to give us a glimpse at how this Singapore poet portrays Singapore in his art.
Hsien Min’s poems portray personas that feel strongly for Singapore culture and belonging. However, while such Singaporean-ness is acknowledged, it also provides the perspective of a younger generation who has been modernized and distanced from the traditional Singapore culture. This is clear in ‘Hungry Ghost Month’, especially. As a newly introduced reader to Hsien Min’s work and Singapore literature, this provides an aspect that is fully relatable and not too foreign to comprehend. I am sure such feelings are shared among most of the younger generations in Singapore as well.
As presumed at first glance, poems such as ‘Birth of the Modern City State’ and ‘Printing Money’ did in fact, provide historical glimpses on politics and economy in Singapore. ‘Birth of the Modern City State’ showed political and structural movements in Singapore, especially the time of mass movements of Singapore citizens to HDB flats. A common remark heard in Singapore households, “ do you think I print money?” used by parents to chastise their spendthrift children is addressed in ‘Printing Money’. Such phrase and historical links distinguishes Hsien Min as a Singaporean writer, much influenced by Singaporean culture and history.
While not an avid reader of poetry, I found ‘Means to an End’ an enjoyable read. Hsien Min’s style is fluid, where his ideas are presented to be read almost like a story with long unending lines with carefully chosen language that were emblematic of cohesive themes.
Min, T. H. (2008). Means to an End. Singapoe: Landmark Books Pte Ltd.
Thursday, 15 March 2012
SCL : Fistful of Colours...
Fistful of Colours tells the story of the protagonist Suwen against the backdrop of Singapore culture in different times, while interweaving the lives and histories of her family members and friends. Readers are drawn into the rich culture of the different races; Baba, Chinese, Malay, Indian and the Westerners, while empathizing with the characters in the novel as they either suppress themselves or try to break social forces within the fixed social construct. Nica goes against her father's wish for her to be a doctor, choosing rather to pursue her passion as an artist. Janice faces objection from her family as she decides to marry a Malay journalist. The novel shows how Suwen and her friends deal with external expectations, and at the end of the day, makes choices that leads to self-discovery.
A recurring theme in the novel is the idea of family as a social construct, which drives the desire in the characters for a freedom to be who they want to be. Suwen is torn between her obligations to her mother and going back to the Ong mansion that haunts her with the memory of being molested by her stepfather. She alienates herself from her mother, but still feel pangs of guilt. Therefore, she is only able to express her pains and anguish through art, as shown by the first line of the novel "..." Nica exerts herself relentlessly by continuously going against her father's expectations. Contrasting to Suwen, Nica is more aggressive and has no qualms in defying social constructs that cause her to compromise on her own ideals and desires. Family becomes a chain, a bondage that holds the characters back. However, the author ironically gives an alternative view by inserting histories and stories of the previous generation, causing us, as readers, to come to understand the reasons behind their expectations, and thus, sympathize with them as well. This results in a very conflicting emotion as there's no obvious right or wrong in both perspectives..
Art becomes a motif that is very important in the novel, serving as a form of escape for the characters, and a tool for their expression of self. In sculpturing, Nica is able to control the way she sees and shapes her subjects, representing how nobody, but only she at the end of the day, is the master of herself.
Fistful of Colours is a complicated novel filled with many interjections from the past through the memories of the characters. Suchen Christine Lim cleverly merges the present Singapore that Suwen lives in and early Singapore, through Suwen's uncovering of the histories and heritage of her family while on a journey to discover her own identity. Important themes of family, societal expectations, conformity, identity and freedom are being played out all at the same time, while maintaining the flow of the story, which in my opinion, makes the novel a rare read.
Wednesday, 14 March 2012
Robert Yeo's Routes
Now, before I discuss it, let me first clear something up. In class, Yeo mentioned how the title has a double meaning in that "routes" and "roots" both sound the same and are both major themes of his memoir. He also mentioned that this would be lost on American readers who apparently pronounce "routes" with an "ow" sound. As an American, let me just say that neither I nor anyone I've ever talked to says it like that and I'm not sure why people think we do (it isn't the first time I'd heard someone think so).
So anyway, the book:
I'll discuss both the "roots" and "routes" that I found as present in the memoir.
Roots:
Routes:
This is mostly about Yeo's travels first to Europe and then around Southeast Asia. He spends a while talking about two years he spent studying in London which helped to broaden his perspective to be more worldwide. This certainly caught my attention because, while my studies may not be nearly as serious, here I am in Singapore having a similar experience myself.He also talks about his time as a reporter in Thailand and his experiences with the effects of the Vietnam War in the region. A lot of his poetry was inspired by the cities he visited and the people he met and this further increased his sense and need to discover what his identity meant to him.
Throw in a few sections dealing with women and lost loves and You have yourself a memoir.
I was very impressed by all the connections he was able to make and the passions he was able to pursue. And of course I was inspired by all the stories of traveling and hope to find similar passions in my own life.
Monday, 12 March 2012
AS : Poems mentioned in analysis post from One Fierce Hour (1998)
Void Deck
By:Alfian Bin Sa'at
Where the neighbourhood wives,
After a morning at the wet market,
Sit facing the breeze
To trade snatches of gossip
About leery shopkeepers,
The local louts,
(Like that fella who's always drilling his walls –
Gives me migraine)
And that mad woman
Who throws things from her window.
With careful put-downs they
Fashion boasts, about stubborn sons,
Lazy daughters, who by some miracle or mistake
Always score well in class.
When words falter,
Gestures take over: pursed lips, rolling eyes,
Animated hands adorned by bangles of
Gold, jade, steel, string.
And children orbit around them
Laugh without diction –
Their games of tag a reassurance
That there has been no hothousing
Of who is unclean, unwashed,
Untouchable. When they break out
Into some kindergarten song,
One almost believes in a generation
Cleansed of skin-deep suspicions,
And free from the superstitions of the tongue –
And old folks sit like sages
To deploy chess pieces with ancient strategies.
In a corner, a caged bird bursts
With the song of its master's pride
And wrinkled women breathe, through
Tai-chi-tuned windpipes, the operatic melody of the air...
All a wanton fantasy.
Eyes reveal a meeting-point
For loners and loiterers:
A sense of things reduced-
Conversations that trickle through
Brief noddings at lift landings,
Teenage rhetoric scrawled, in liquid paper,
On the stone-table chessboard,
(Where the king used to sit)
The grandiose house-selling dreams of residents
Compacted in anonymous letterboxes;
As an afterthought, an old man pees
Under a public phone.
A place to be avoided, this,
How in its vastness it devours hours.
Little wonder then,
Why residents rush through void decks
Back to the cramped comforts of home
As if in fear of what such open space might do
To cosy minds.
Neighbours
by Alfian Sa'at
During Hari Raya she knocks on my conscience,
I knock on her door and I give her cakes.
She says she likes them and gives me
Sweets with gelatine inside. I throw them away.
Poor woman, dosen't know how to make cakes.
Her children eat Maggi after school everyday.
That's why the elder one is in Normal stream
And the younger one can't spell her name.
If I was her age I wouldn't be wearing shorts at home.
No shame, she dosen't know how to hide her womanhood.
When the children are naughty and I beat them
I close the door: I hear she's a gossip.
But she beatxs her children harder than I do
What to do her children are like that.
I once hear her scream she wanted to kill herself.
These people never value their own lives.
Other times I see her I smile and she smiles back
And her children smile and call me auntie.
But in our hands we hold with fists clenched tight
THe keys to our homes, each night we slam the bolt shut.
AS : One Fierce Hour (a review)
For my analysis,I will be looking at two poems from One Fierce Hour that align themselves with the heartlands in Singapore : Something, I think both Alfian and I as a reader readily identify with.After all, I have lived in one my entire life. These two poems are 'Neighbours' and 'Void Deck'. Both poems to varying degrees carry a cynical if not sinister tone. In Neighbour Alfian presents the idea of duality and hypocrisy between neighbours who merely pretend to be civil to each other but beneath the cloak of force-fed harmony lies a snarky attitude that is filled with distrust. The structure of the poem clearly symbolizes this duality as each stanza is only two lines. What I find most striking in this poem is the imagery potrayed isn't very complex. In fact, as I read the poem I actually feel like somewhere in my subconcious of all those years I've lived in a HDB flat, I have seen these things happen or have felt the same way about my neighbours. This familiarity I think is what makes Alfian's poems particularly stirring. Similarly in 'void deck' the imagery is even more commonplace - it is LITERALLY a common place (Sorry, I could not help myself) Images of 'neighbourhood wives' who are trading snatches of gossip and children running around the void deck playing tag - these are all very much ingrained in my memories although I wasnt really a 'tag' kinda person. My group of neighbourhood friends only played Block Catching (more advanced) In this way, Alfian's poems especially in One Fierce Hour and his other earlier works depend very much on this 'familiarity' or the intangible 'sense of place' attachment Singaporeans or people who have lived in Singapore will identify with. I am not sure if a foreigner reading this will get away with the same enriched understanding as I did... but I guess that's why Alfian Sa'at is lauded to be a TRULY Singaporean writer. Unlike other writers who may choose to write away from the Singaporean context,Alfian continues to cater to Singaporean readers - which I appreciate. I mean, of course I appreciate Keats and Plath when I feel like putting on a bonnet and drinking tea but I like it when as a reader the images come almost like second nature - literally like it's in my backyard. This, I love.
Both poems also stay true to the collection's overarching theme. Both are extremely 'fierce'. Alfian Sa'at never shies away from telling the brutal reality. In Void Deck, the poem's easy flow is broken by one line 'All a wanton fantasy' Immediately, the illusion of nostalgia of the happy things that happen in a void deck is broken and the poem continues as a rant towards the end of the poem. Similarly, this sinister nature of reality is potrayed in Neighbours as well.
Ultimately, I feel that these two poems are pretty much representative of 'One Fierce Hour' as a whole as well as Alfian's writing style and mindset as a young writer back then. In my opinion, Alfian was most outwardly fiery as a poet at least in this collection. He has not necessarily mellowed (let's hope he never does) but in his newer books there seems to be much more latent emotion expressed (trapped in imagery, or in symbols) rather than the outright confrontations he showed in One Fierce Hour. The most obvious example is 'Singapore you are not my country' which he shows no holds barred commitment to attacking the country. I for one, find the upfront confrontations refreshing. I like my poetry raw and genuine - which is what One Fierce Hour ultimately is.
