What can studying literature offer one?

Local writing makes literature more accessible Straits Times Forum, 27th Jan, H9

For people who don't see the value in literature appreciation, the writer of this article makes a point which i see as expressing an intrinsic value of the study of literature.

I was unsettled as i read Mr Li Shengwu's reply to Mr Paul Tan's article, "Give local writing its place" (ST, Tan 18). Underlying Mr Li's reply ("Classroom still belongs to Yeats and the Bard"; ST, Jan 21) are assumptions and beliefs about learning literature in Singapore, local writers and the literary canon which i found disturbing.

It is a sad fact that most students in Singapore do not study literature beyond Secondary 2. Many avoid it like the plague at the O levels, few go on to take it in junior college and a small but determined population will swim against the tide and study it at university.

My question, therefore, is what can we possibly impart to students who might not touch literature ever again?

My own answer to that question would be an appreciation of the capacity of humanity to express its experiences and feeling in language and the ability of writers to move their readers.

Mr Li's answer to that question seems to be to allow students with prospects overseas to get a good foundation in literature, cleanly ignoring the students that will drop literature.

Is it possible to impart to all students an appreciation of literature? It is, and local texts introduced at the lower-secondary level could be just the answer.

What i wish to argue has two points. Firstly, local writing makes literature more accessible to our students who will be approaching literature for the first time.

To Mr Li's point about relevance, i think there are no texts closer to our cultural context than local texts.

Secondly, it is possible to learn the rudiments of literary analysis through local texts because they are rich in terms of stories, images and themes. A good example would be Sing to the Dawn.

Students who are more keen can go on to study the classics. What i am advocating is an invigorating mixture of local and classic texts.

In Mr Li's point of view, the best of the literary world should be taught - Shakespeare and Yeats - and he defines good literature by its inclusion in the English canon and the universal nature it these works.

What he fails to consider are the academic institutions that form the canon (usually British or American), and the fact that nothing can ever be truly universal.

To compare Kuo Pao Kun and Catherine Lim with Yeats and Shakespeare is simply not fair because they exist/existed in different contexts and faced vastly different traditions of literary production.

How can these writers be even compared on the same page? I don't deny the brillance of the works he names but to compare them with our local writers is academically unjustified.

On the point of classics being universal, I urge Mr Li to look at the sheer amount of notes that accompany any Shakespeare text, especially the Arden editions.

The number of explanatory notes points to the gap between Shakespeare's language and cultural context and our own day and age.

For students who are more keen, Shakespeare would be good to lay the foundations for what literature has to offer as an academic field. But for the majority of students who will not touch literature at a higher level, there is nothing more accessible and closer to matters at home than our own writers, Scorpion Orchid being a good case in point.

I don't think it is "blind patriotism" to prefer local works; it is more like prefering teh tarik to English breakfast tea. If we know only tea, we will never know the joys of teh tarik, which is uniquely satisfying.

- Stephanie Chu Huiying (Miss)

chinese new year's eve ride

My chinese new year's eve ride took me from jurong all the way to punggol. That's quite a distance i suppose, especially since riding to places is always a two-way trip; you cycle there and you cycle back. The tough part was dragging myself out of bed early in the morning and cycling down to the esplanade to meet the guys. It turned out that Aaron had overslept, which was why we decided to cycle down to Punggol and meet him.

Aaron graduated from medical school not too long ago; now he says he's doing all sorts of work in the hospital, which merely puts him one level above the nurses. During our conversations, i think he mentioned how it is that everyone chooses to fall ill at the same time and the hospital suddenly becomes a very chaotic scene. Certainly the hospital's not a place most of us would be excited about; but i wonder if the doctors get a high working in such a demanding, fast-paced environment.

Eugene, a very well-mannered and thoughtful guy, was the coordinator of today's ride. Because of his good looks and demeanour, he always comes across to me as an exemplar of a gentleman. A geography graduate, he switched career a year ago because his first job, although it has good prospects, was not what he wanted to do. His present job is more closely related to what he learnt in school, and he's clearly enjoying it. It must be wonderful to be able to work in a job which you like and which allows you to put theory (what you've learned in school) into practice. At various times while riding, he would share with us nuggets of information about developments in the Singapore landscape. He knows about them because, well, that's part of his job.

WW is a tall and lanky guy who speaks in a monotone (or so i observe). A recent graduate, he's now working as an engineer with a company that i believe is in the private sector. Throughout the ride, his bicycle was making noises caused by the rubbing of the plastic pad against the spokes. I was cycling behind him initially and was wondering which nearby truck was making the noise - for it was a very audible, low chucking sound constantly in the making. That, of course, came from his bike, making it seemed as though he's riding some old, rickety bike, which is not the case. When we stopped at Jalan Kayu around noon for drinks, WW asked Aaron some questions about his right shoulder, which is giving him pain whenever he works out. Aaron proceeded to ask him a few questions to find out more about his injury. I thought this affair rather funny - because it seems as if WW is seeking free consultation from a doctor. Very soon, the conversation turned to the reliability of Chinese sinseh vs Western doctor. All this while i was a passive listener, too busy eating the delicous tau sar pau i bought from 7-11 to satiate my hunger.

Now that i am writing all this, i realise that i was riding with a group who have all joined the workforce. Being a student still, i always find it meaningful to converse with friends who are working. Hearing them talk about their working experiences, and receiving helpful advice from them, always gives me insight into the nature of different jobs, as well as the emotions evoked by working life.

At the same time, there's often a sense of broken solidarity that is felt only by the estranged student. Whether recent graduates or working for a long time already, it is clear that the student's life - the agony and stress, the gossips about school, classmates and teachers, the mundane and frivolous topics that only students would yak about and laugh amongst themselves - has become a faint memory for those who are now working, relegated to some idle compartment of their Memory which is now preoccupied with new experiences.

Yet, is it not the case that while we (and they) are still students and living a student's life, we often talk intensely and endlessly about all things related to school (like the perennial worries for grades, meeting datelines, getting the first job etc), so much so that it seemed as though these memories would never be capable of fading away?

The truth is, memories are always in the making, and since our identity is constituted by our memory, it is also true that our identity (save the part which distinguishes as incontestable essence, if there indeed is) changes through our lives. Thus, my working friends would not, for a moment, be conscious that at some point of time they were preoccupied with a whole set of experiences relating largely to school, but, now, are deeply immersed in something new (or not so new, for some). All this is, of course, inconsequential. Nevertheless i am holding this opinion because it is naturally something i feel or observe whenever hanging out with friends who have mostly started working.

Next weekend, if i am not mistaken, i will be taking part in a food race with three other friends as a team. That will see us riding through the night till the following morning. I doubt i would want to ride from now till then - whatever time there is, ought to be spent catching up on my readings, which i have neglected mostly so far. As with past years' chinese new year, there's nothing quite festive about the current one for me, except perhaps indulging in pineapple tarts and, more pineapple tarts. The riding next week shall see to the job of compensating for this sinful indulgence.

A Bak Kwa Affair

Last Thursday, i did the unthinkable, the amazing and perhaps also quite the irrational - i joined the queue for Bak Kwa in Chinatown. It's unthinkable, amazing and irrational all at once because 1) i usually won't bother to join any queues for anything, even if it's for some free gift; 2) i don't have an insatiable craving for Bak Kwa; and, most importantly, 3) the queue for Bak kwa is, without a doubt, ridiculously long, it defies logic why anyone would want to join the interminable queue when there are other places that sell the same product. I hardly think the succulent bak kwa justifies the insane amount of time spent queuing for it and watching the ceaseless Chinese New Year crowd pass by. But, whatever you may say about my act, for once i decided i would join my fellow countrymen in their favourite pastime - queuing for, well, just about anything. And if you haven't an inkling which Bak Kwa i am referring to, it's that all-famous Lim Chee Guan bak kwa in Chinatown, reputedly Singapore's best-selling barbecued pork, or rou gan in Chinese.

As I've said, there wasn't some compelling reason why i had to queue for Lim Chee Guan's bak kwa. This may seem suspiciously unconvincing, but it is true that i just decided that this year i would join the queue for the seemingly irresistable bak kwa that has Singaporeans all over flock down to Chinatown every Chinese New Year to buy it. Maybe it is so that i can proudly proclaim to friends and relatives alike that i've eaten Lim Chee Guan's Bak Kwa while they have to make do with their inferior bak kwa from, er, anywhere else that's not Lim Chee Guan's. Yep, like so many arbitrary class distinctions pervasive in our society, i can now be a Lim Chee Guan Bak Kwa snob. It's really not that difficult. I mean, all it takes is merely to queue for no less than 3-hours on the outside of a five-foot way in Chinatown, and, for that 3-4 interminable hours, allow yourself to be part of a specimen that is constantly gawked at by members of the public. And occasionally, Caucasian tourists may join the latter group, expressing amazement and disbelief at the organised herd which seemed immobilized to their spot.

When i joined the queue the bak kwa shop wasn't even within sight, at least not until after more than an hour when i finally seemed to have made some discernible advancement in the queue. During that eternity before i descended upon the inside of the heavenly shop, i had to entertain myself to keep myself sane. I hadn't had lunch and i told myself i will eat bak kwa silly when i finally lay my hands on it - it's my way of taking revenge on my self-inflicted, arduous journey. I wasn't like the Auntie in front of me and the other two Aunties two persons behind me, all of whom must be experienced customers of Lim Chee Guan. The former had with her the I-weekly magazine, which she must have read every single word from the first page to the last while queuing up. Once, she turned back to look at how long the queue had formed behind us, and a self-satisfied grin formed on her face, a sign that surely suggested she relished the sight. For she's no longer the last few in the queue and the queue was continually renewing itself.

The latter must have sought each other's company for this quest, and they took turns to queue and rest. They had brought drinks along, while there i was, alone in the queue (like many others, of course), unable to visit the toilet, sick of reading about 19th century history and suppressing the growling in my stomach. All for some good-tasting pork! piak.

The lady just behind me, i heard her speak on the phone, had taken half-a-day's leave and she was joined by her boyfriend midway. When the boyfriend asked her if she would be helping to buy bak kwa for her relatives (which really means the entire family clan) she began in earnest to list out her relatives and say who wanted or didn't want. In case you gasp at this, let me assure you that almost everyone queuing was buying tons of pork not only for themselves, but for their friends and relatives, and maybe the friends and relatives of their friends and relatives. I wanted to call up people but i realised i've got only enough cash to buy like a pathetic 2 kg (which, if you think about it, is actually disgustingly A LOT). Did i mention also that the price of bak kwa is reaching astronomical levels as Chinese New Year approaches? Again, being a first-time participant of this insane activity, i didn't expect that.

Friends who later learned that i have bought bak kwa from said shop had only two responses. Either they go, 'You're crazy', or they will look at me accusingly and exclaim, 'Bo jio!' (why didn't you ask and help me buy!)

I am not complaining now. The famous Lim Chee Guan bak kwa does live up to its reputation. I don't care if you are eating mei zhen xiang or xiang wei's bak kwa, to me, they are second-rate - they have to be.

Happy Chinese New Year!

Voltaire: 'I may disagree with you, but i will fight for your right to say it.'

Shall post the link here to Salman Rushdie's article, which i first read more than a year ago and now happen to come across: Democracy is no polite tea party

Over the weekend I

1. replaced my pencil case, including all the stationery i lost together with it. that took me to quite a few places, because i insist on buying the same items. in the end, i concluded that the small stationery area at Kinokuniya has the best variety. now i am a contented student who can read my notes with ease.

2. had dinner at Food Republic at Wisma, finally. heard so much about it but never had the chance to go there. must say the food court is refreshingly appealing, have a very up-market feel; it makes for a fine dinning experience.

3. bought a book from Borders - my third Milan Kundera's novel. really excited about reading it, but i have to resist and put that aside. more serious (read: academic) readings demand my attention. Borders sure knows what it takes to make book lovers spend willing money. with its occasional 30% discount coupon featured in the Straits Times (see, it pays to read your papers daily), resistance becomes futile: buying a book is imperative.

4. drank at Indochine wisma. the band that was playing had a good lead vocalist, and the pieces they played were definitely good company for the drinking. a pity the night was slightly marred by a really repugnant waiter/manager, who fixed an implolite glare at my friend and I when we declined to make orders till another friend arrive.

5. despite the late night, managed to haul myself out of bed at 730 am for a short ride Sunday morning. cycled a comfortable 35km to Kranji, Neo Tiew, then LimChuKang. Sunday mornings are the time when you meet many fellow riders on the road, but i thought there were relatively few cyclists on the road that day. and - i would have to ride more frequently if i want to feel more effortless while pedalling on the road.

6. finally, met up with canuf, char, V and 10 at Haagen Dazs at Tangs. as with any other gatherings that we've had, it is quite simply, enjoyable and wonderful. they are always a good sport, always very thoughtful and always ready to share a good, even if crappy, joke and laugh. And laugh we did, over the most ridiculous to the absolutely hilarious. this is a group of good friends who never tire (i hope) of my endless photo-taking, and it is because of their participation and the joviality of all our meetings that it is such a pleasure to take photos and arrange them after each occasion. only now i am a little busy to upload the photos and do the captioning. (:

Lost

There's no doubt about it. My pencil case has officially gone missing. It has disappeared. Gone. Only when it is no longer around did i realise how indispensable, how utterly important it is to me. It's like your favourite pillow is suddenly snatched away from you unaware, and you now cannot sleep comfortably. Or your personal calender has suddenly gone missing, and you consequently feel a deep sense of loss, not knowing what to do and too upset to think about its replacement. I'm not thinking about how and what stationery to replace; all that's in my mind is my precious pencil case which has followed me for many years. It has survived the jungle (i had used it in army) and the vigours of academia - but now, it is irreversibly removed from me. I am now inconsolably mournful, depressed, annoyed: What did i do to deserve this loss! Good lah, now i can't read all the notes i've printed today because i don't have my favourite ball-point pen to underline the text, no highlighters to mark important lines, no mechanical pencil to make doodles over my notes. You tell me, how to study like that?!

The loss of my pencil case came as a rude shock to me, and try as i might i just cannot recall how it departed from my possession. It must have hidden legs, or else why would it walk out on me! Anyhow, i now come to the conclusion that a student's best friend has to be his pencil case, because without it you can't do your sums, can't take notes, can't write aimlessly, can't twirl that favourite pen/pencil of yours while you study. Damn! you are literally made handicapped by the loss. The thing is, i realise, the pencil case is an all-important possession that reassures you, the student, without you ever being aware of its value - not at least until it goes abruptly missing and makes you feel a sense of panic and disorientation.

All right, some people don't carry pencil cases, they merely carry a pen and/or a pencil in their file and whatever minimum other stationery that is necessary. But i happen not to be one of them. How can a student not have a proper pencil case? There're just so many pieces of stationery that we need to use. On the other hand, i have observed that there are others with ridiculously large pencil cases that can qualify as a mini stationery shop. My pencil case is different. It is in stylish black and is of just the right size to hold all my stationery. Alas, it is no longer the case now.

So this post is inspired by the loss of my pencil case. I couldn't bring myself to read my notes the whole night because i don't have any highlighters now. Tomorrow the first thing to do is to purchase the necessary stationery, though i would be no happier after that. In fact, i will be very much a grumpy man because i would have become poorer. Believe me when i say i feel for the loss of my pencil case. I really do wish this is all a silly blunder, that after shutting down the PC and returning to my desk i would somehow find my pencil case lying in the corner of my desk, nevermind the frantic search that has already been launched when i first realised it was missing.

My dear pencil case, wherefore art thou?

Jurong - Fong Seng - ECP - Orchard - Holland V

cycled with Jon and Kiat yesterday night. It wasn't that long ago that all 3 of us were riding mountain bikes. But now, both of them have converted to roadies, with Kiat even having sold his bike to earn some cash after he had paid more than $4k for his absolutely stunning Argon (which never fails to attract envious stares). I don't have that kind of money, man. Jon, on the other hand, didn't show any signs of wanting to get a road bike; i was therefore quite surprised when i heard from him that he had got one. I was told that Treknology is now displaying roadbikes instead of mountain bikes. That's really not surprising. The popularity of triathlons has really caught up with many here and, therefore, there is increasing interest in road riding. It seems these days many people i know have taken part in some kind of sports race, ranging from the annual marathon and triathlon to biathlon and duathlon. Others who have not seem determined to take part in one in the near future, the most popular being the StanChart marathon.

Notwithstanding my competency level, now i'm one of the few people who form the ever shrinking 'non-roadie' camp, who is doomed to trailing far behind the roadies - if i ride with them in the first place. Jon and Kiat were nice enough to maintain a comfortable pace yesterday for my sake - they had insisted that it wouldn't be a far and fast ride - though at various times they really picked up speed and had my leg muscles burning trying to catch up with them. This was especially so when we went along Nicoll Highway.

Later, while taking a leisure ride through East Coast Park and chatting with one another, i felt inspired by the late-night joggers and the breezy beach to remark: 'If i live in this area i swear i will be motivated to come and jog everyday.' This was of course met by derisive laughter and wisecrack from Jon, who let the statement 'you might as well say if i stay in school i will be motivated to study everyday' show the 'promise' of my remark. I rest my case and went on cycling.

From ECP Mac's we turned back and headed down towards Orchard Road before coming to a stop at Holland Village. There, we bought two 100plus Big Glups ($2 each) from 7-11 and sat at the food centre opposite. The food centre was previously closed down for renovation but has now reopened. Though it is relatively small and offers little variety in terms of food, there's no doubt the large space and adequate ventillation provide for a pleasant environment. If an expensive cuppa from Coffee Bean is not to your liking, you can still enjoy an al fresco setting sipping tasty teh across at this food centre. Not bad.

Anyway, we were supposed to continue the ride and head down to Bukit Timah after the break, but as we had sat down for too long and it was already past 2330 by the time we got going, we ended the ride there and headed home. I headed west. Halfway through the journey, i was fortunate to be able to draft against a SBS bus which was going at a pretty slow but good enough pace for me to catch up. I was able to ride comfortably at nearly 38kph without exerting myself (save for the worry that the bus would brake suddenly and i would crash into it). The bus helped to block the wind which otherwise would have made my ride tougher.

I haven't been diligently cycling. Hopefully i can find time for that before work catches up - almost there, sigh - on me. Cycling with roadies is always tough - but the good thing is this: their going fast makes you push yourself to go faster, pedal harder. Any form of motivation for training ought to be welcome.

the new year just started

And so this is it. 2006 just officially started for me today, my first day back on the university campus after a five-week break, a very short one which i am nonetheless grateful for. As countless numbers of people have told me time and again, when else in life do you get such long holiday breaks? I know, and it won't be long before i tell my juniors the same thing others keep kindly reminding me of.

The dreary weather and the relentless rain may as well be a fitting start to this semester. It wasn't with excitement that i took the familiar route to school, nor did i beam a truly happy smile as i met all-too-familiar faces around in campus. Not that i am unhappy either, but it's probably because the familiarity of such details has long faded into something close to a bane, or at the very least, it has breeded a great deal of indifference.

Which is why i am glad that today will not repeat itself tomorrow, for tomorrow is a public holiday, a day right after i've just returned to campus. Tell me this isn't supposed to make me feel a prolonged sense of holiday mood, delaying further my settling down for yet another tough semester that, this time round especially, requires my complete diligence and focus.