One Reason Why I Stayed Away So Long

Months ago, a new writer barely twenty years old published a book. She was feted (sort of) at the anniversary celebration of some literary institution. Just a few weeks ago, that book disappeared from shelves everywhere; it had to be pulped because it had at least one plagiarised story. The news has gotten out, and the writer has issued an apology (sort of).

What grabs my goat is the need for some commentators to wield the hammer long after the nails have been driven home. Either the hammer makes them feel important, or such is their indignation that they feel the little cheating upstart hasn't really received that much-deserved butt-kicking.

Then comes this comment (emphases mine):

"...basking in the envy of others..."

That's the operative phrase right there, isn't it? That there are some people who can be envious even of a local book that couldn't sell even a thousand copies. So when a teenager makes an extremely bad call, it's time to give vent to all those years of pent-up resentment :-)

— Amir Muhammad puts it where it hurts

The response to that was so childish, I won't bother describing it. Is there some kind of thrill or claim to fame in pushing someone's buttons until they explode or embarrass themselves? Getting someone the likes of Amir Muhammad to lose his cool might be something to brag about, but really...

It can be hard to describe the pain of someone else getting credit for your hard work, that witty, funny, award-winning prose you spent months, even years on. It would hurt heaps more, and be better illustrated, if the plagiarist stole it and beat you to the book launch with it.

If you think I'm just being nice: After an English comprehension exercise when I was in Form 2, the teacher found two identical answers, word for word. My answer was copied by a classmate. I don't think there was any malice intended; he probably just wanted to fill up that nagging little blank. It probably never occurred to him that he could actually hurt someone. To his credit, he owned up and I avoided being mistaken for a copycat. We remained on relatively good terms until we left school. But hell, was I stunned.

Of course, it's perhaps unfair to compare an English test with a book but in essence, both is considered stealing. And copying something that was published years before and passing it off as your own is more stupid than sinister.

All the appropriate steps seem to have been taken by all parties involved. But the troll takes it a step further, and suggests a boycott of sorts on what she writes from now on. What's the point in covering a target with scarlet letters when plagiarism by others continue around us? She'll be the only one end up hurt, scarred - probably for life.

Is that the whole point in condemning plagiarists and plagiarism? Do we have so many new writers that it's okay to bury the careers of one or two who made a mistake as an example to others?

New Adventures In Doctoring, etc

These are but a few pieces that were part of the revamped Off The Edge, which had more pages and cost twice as much. Heaps of good articles in this issue (December 2009), numbering over a hundred pages.

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My first trip to Sabah was a doozy.

As part of a rebranding exercise, UMW invited members of the press to a sponsored Mercy Malaysia mobile clinic to Pagalungan, at the bottom half of the state. Only four journalists from the Peninsula took up their offer.

"New adventures in doctoring" (left), and "Potong gaji!", Off The Edge, December 2009

Of course, things went wrong with the return trip, worthy of its own article. But space is expensive. Needless to say, I developed a healthy respect for rural East Malaysians, and learnt that maybe they are getting a raw deal from the current federal government.

UMW Malaysia, which I referred to as Toyota several times, probably didn't get as much publicity as they'd hoped from my one-pager. The valiant efforts of their PR crew in getting the Peninsula softies out of the jungle never made it into the mag, either.

Rounding up my look East was a Q&A with Bandar Kuching MP Chong Chien Jen of Sarawak. We thought "Potong Gaji!" (Pay Cut!) was a great way to introduce him; the phrase suggested a motion for a RM10 reduction in the salaries of MPs (or ministers, I forgot which) and a battle-cry of sorts for the DAP. Of course the pay cut didn't happen, and probably never will.

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I looked inside Rupert Murdoch's head via this book, and didn't like what I saw - much. While it makes good reading for those in journalism, I didn't like it much.

"I, Rupert" (left), and "Speed/In Praise of Perlahan-lahan", Off The Edge, December 2009

About the other piece: I've been following food trends in the US, which appears to be going locavore in a number of places, helped by celebrity chefs and the food scandals involving bacteria. I wasn't even aware of Terra Madre Day until I looked it up. We even have a Slow food chapter in the Klang Valley.

Singh To Me, Inspector

I did have high expectations for this book, because of the name "Shamini Flint". When they were not met, I sort of used the book for the book reviewer's version of target practice. From what I can see, they tamed the final version.

I also jumped the gun quite a bit. Days after this was submitted, I met and heard the author speak in person. What I gleaned would've made the review kinder, more informed. The paper waited two... three months before finally publishing it, so yeah... . I'd given way too little credit to the author, but I stand by what I felt about the book.

Looking at the original copy now, I think I've been trying too hard to recapture my old, snarky day days. In the end the peal of wisdom in the words of a concert manager rang the loudest: "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything."

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Too nice a guy?

first published in The Star, 15 November 2009


I must have been among hundreds of people who were piqued by the message on social networking site Facebook calling all Australians to save some Inspector Singh allegedly trapped on shelves by shelling out A$22.95 (RM73.44) "in ransom money".

Not being Australian I didn’t think too much of it. But it did put the name "Shamini Flint" into my brain, so when I came across the name on a book in Malaysia, I picked it up, no doubt "rescuing" it, too....

In Inspector Singh Investigates: A Most Peculiar Malaysian Murder, the titular inspector, a veteran of the Singapore police force is sent northwards to aid former Singaporean model Chelsea Liew who is accused of murdering her rich but abusive husband while in the midst of a child custody battle.

Try as Flint might to make the hero more "local", the whiff of Agatha Christie’s Hercule Poirot is still strong. Singh (who has no first name), however, is bigger and nicer than Poirot, and has more facial hair. He’s also a bit old and out of shape, and often outclassed by the supporting Malaysian characters, who seem to come across better-dressed, better-looking, healthier, and in some instances, more professional; Singh tends to take the law into his own hands – in his own nice guy way, that is.

The buzz about the book and the witty Facebook message did inflate my expectations a bit, so I was a bit let down by the first instalment of the Inspector Singh series. High hopes of reading a knuckle-chewing murder mystery were dashed as I flipped through the pages of a rather short police drama. And I’ve seen more – and better – action, twists and turns at the Sepang racing circuit.

There’s so much drama here, I thought I was reading Malaysia Today. Illegal logging and the Penans, complete with a Bruno Manser clone; civil and Syariah legal tussles on conversion; crooked cops, the haze and mistreatment of migrant labour....

Recognisable Malaysian stereotypes include the well-connected nature-thrashing tycoon (said late husband), the attention-seeking lawyer, and one of the many Malaysian judges "whose instincts were conservative and (whose) ... sympathies (were) rarely with the accused in criminal trials".

While it’s nice to get into the characters’ heads and dwellings, it kind of threw me off the chase. There are too many adjectives ("herbivorous" teeth?), a bit too much product placement (Mont Blanc seems to be a favourite), and virtually none of the wit exemplified by the Facebook ransom note.

As a sparring partner for the Royal Malaysian Police, I was left with the impression that Singh just can’t cut it. Because. He’s. Such. A. Nice. Guy. Maybe "Inspektor Pramodya of the Indonesian National Police" would’ve been a better candidate.

Singh’s next stop is Bali, and it sounds like that outing will involve bombs, terrorist cells and cross-border conspiracies, but hopefully no jokes along the lines of "Selamat Datang ke Malaysia". The portly Punjabi inspector may have taken a little tumble in his debut but he isn’t down for the count yet. Or will the nice guy finish last? I can’t wait to find out.

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A Most Peculiar Malaysian Murder

Shamini Flint
Piatkus Books
295 pages
Fiction
ISBN: 978-0-7499-2975-6

Somewhere To Belong

"Somewhere To Belong",
Off The Edge, October
2009

My (slow) flirtation with short story collections continued with Ioannis Gatsiounis' Velvet and Cinder Blocks. Ten short stories, all nicely written by the expat journalist whose work has appeared in numerous publications.

I met the author during a Readings @ Seksan's session, where he read a chapter from the very same book, designed with two different coloured covers. "The Rat Tooth" was the tale of a Jewish boy who found a bit of bone in his lunch, which sparked ideas to sue for millions over a "rat's tooth" in his lunch. A bit of comedy at the end is the boy's dad starting a fusion restaurant that specialises in things such as "tomyam moussaka" and a "durian-based fish head soup".

It was, like all the stories in the book, of identity, belonging, and the odysseys undertaken by the protagonists to find it. Many of the endings are open-ended, leaving room for the readers to ponder the possibilities.

Among the things he told me was that his name is a Greek version of "John" (or something similar), and that it was pronounced as "Yannis". There appeared to be some confusion as to how it was pronounced.

It's a good book, all things considered. But for some strange reason I decided not to keep it.

Swing Quartet

After interviewing the brains behind Dama Orchestra, we spoke to the five ladies in the Dama production, I Have A Date With Spring

"Swing Quartet", Off The Edge, October 2009

Besides this Q&A, we also got their musical picks. We'd get entertainers to give us their "Pods of Wisdom", musical picks that would provide insights into the inspirations, tastes and influences that shape their craft. It's supposed to be a fun thing for them to do, and most of the time we get surprise picks, which can be great additions to any playlist.

Still Made In Malaysia

In 2009, Dama Orchestra, a renowned musical company, was to celebrate their 15 years in the business. In conjunction with that, they were presenting their version of I Have A Date With Spring.

First two pages of "Still made in Malaysia, Off The Edge, September 2009

I had some difficulty with this piece, because of the way it plucked the heartstrings. Dama's tale is one of hardship, heartbreak, and triumph after tears - much like many of the stage-plays, songs and stories about the artistes of those Shanghai Bund days. Finally, one afternoon at a Section 14 coffeeshop, I sat down and drafted the piece.

"Still made in Malaysia: Gold standard", Off The Edge, September 2009

Much of it is a trip down memory lane, with pictures from Dama's archives and narration by Dama's artistic director, Pun Kai Loon.

Deep In Our Cups

This health piece came about when we were invited to a physiotherapy clinic in faraway Taman Melawati. The doctor who runs it was famous for saying that the Malaysian stretched tea habit was killing a lot of us slowly. Of course he said more than that, but the papers probably felt copies would shift faster if they emphasised that potentially brow-raising line.

"Deep in our cups", Off The Edge, August 2009

Speaking to the doctor, a patient and one of the physiotherapists was a nice way to spend the afternoon, and on top of that, was a health piece I've grown to like. The nutritional composition of the normal vs "lite" teh tarik was discovered by chance. I didn't even know it existed.