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Tuesday, 23 August 2011

Rise Of The "Raviews"

Today, let me introduce a made-up word: "raview". This portmanteau of "rave" and "review" is the only way to describe the US$5 "reviews" that might be offered by a web site mentioned in the New York Times.

They are everywhere. They are, it seems, cheap. And they are virtually indistinguishable from "truthful" reviews.

A related article offers some tips on spotting potential fake reviews, listing such indicators as: constant focus on reviewer and companions, lots of "I", "me" and "my", and direct mentions of lodgings and cities. Also, look out for adverb and verb overload. If a review sounds overly positive, it smells fishy.


A sample of some very effusive reviews on TripAdvisor.com.
Under those guidelines, they'd be fishier than Fulton Street,
even if they're genuine and truthful.


This concerns me somewhat, because similar issues plague book reviews too. As well as food reviews, movie reviews, anything reviews. This also shed more light on why a former boss insisted on limiting the use of "I", "me" and "my" in my more "serious" pieces. "Raviews" do seem to be talking more about the "raviewer" than the product.

Arguably, "raviews" of such things as books, food and movies are possible, because, well, there's no accounting for taste. Over time, a reviewer's experiences will change the person, leading to a possible re-evaluation of his earlier opinions.

By the way, does this look "raview-ish"? ...Perhaps, but that's the general vibe I had when I went through the pages.

"Raviews" of travel destinations are harder, I think, and not just because of the writer. Places change. Service standards fluctuate. Last month's travellers to a place may encounter a different atmosphere than today's.

Still, US$5 per "raview" is a short sell for the kind of mental anguish, however minimal, that I'm sure the "raviewer" goes through. Times must be really hard nowadays.

Now that these possible signs of a fake review are out in the open, will it change the way reviews are written? Possibly. For one, writers may probably have to adopt more neutral voices, even if they were genuinely blown away by their experiences. And who wants to read dry, boring travel stuff?

But things will change. They are talking about ways to separate the chaff from the wheat; "raviews", after all, are essentially spam and a waste of server space, in lieu of their effect on a product's marketability and a ratings site as a fair arbiter of taste.

At least, as fair as could be in the face of the constant deluge of information and opinion brought about by the Internet.

Monday, 22 August 2011

Seashore Searching

Certain events that took place in the past two weeks drove me to search Youtube for an old song. "Forever", sung by Japanese actor Takashi Sorimachi and Richie Sambora, was the opening theme for the 1997 Japanese drama series Beach Boys.


The only nice poster pic of the 1997 Japanese drama
series Beach Boys I could find


Yes, I guess it was a long time ago.

Walking on the beach, 17-year-old Makoto Izumi (played by Ryoko Hirosue) finds a message in a bottle which ends with, "We are the beach boys." It was never clear who wrote the message, but I suppose the bottle was just a set piece that led to the serendipitous encounter that would follow later.

I.e., the arrival of the "beach boys" into her life.

Former competition swimmer and deadbeat Hiromi Sakurai (Sorimachi) is kicked out of his girlfriend's house. Around the same time, high-flying salaryman Kaito Suzuki (Yutaka Takenouchi) is escaping from troubles at his workplace. These two meet and end up at the same place: a small bed-and-breakfast by the beach, where Makoto lives with her granddad.

Hiromi and Kaito couldn't be any more different. Sorimachi essentially plays a more laid-back, easygoing and less edgier version of his GTO persona; Kaito is all business and straitlaced. Their first meeting couldn't have been worse: while pushing Hiromi's jalopy, they end up chasing the car downhill and plunged into the ocean.

And Kaito loses his wallet to the sea.

Stuck in the middle of nowhere with no money, both of them became employees at the B&B - fertile ground for friendships between two unlikely bedfellows, set within a feel-good, often funny tale about life, priorities, finding one's dreams and, yes, friendship.

Then again, not so unlikely; in Hiromi and Kaito's names is the kanji for "sea", shown clearly in the opening. No guesswork for the audience, as far as the scriptwriters are concerned.

Back then, I was too young and perhaps too occupied with my own things to fully appreciate the message(s) behind the drama series. The idea of a simple life, working and living near the sea appealed to me, though, and not just because of where I was born. The opening theme stuck, too.

I guess it was that simplicity that I seem to yearn for now, so warm and familiar, it feels like... home. Just like the B&B was to "beach boys" Hiromi and Kaito.

But their idyll doesn't last long. Masaru Izumi, Makoto's grandpa and owner of the B&B goes missing one day, leading to the Beach Boys' parting of ways to find their own "ocean". And so it ends...

But bless Fuji TV for the special episode. Ah, the sight of them trying to start and then chasing Hiromi's car back into the ocean again when they returned to the seaside B&B was so damn cathartic.

And then, the sounds of the guitar as the opening theme played - an affirmation that, yes, they are and will always be "the beach boys".

I hold on to that song. When I hear it playing at the back of my mind at some point in my life, I will know that I have, at last, found my metaphorical B&B by the sea.

Thursday, 18 August 2011

MPH Quill, MPH 105th Anniversary Issue

In this special issue of MPH Quill, some author interviews.


Cover of the 105th Anniversary issue of MPH Quill (left; don't ask)
and more Mysore magic and majesty


Eric Forbes speaks to MJ Hyland (How the Light Gets In) And Padma Viswanathan (The Toss of a Lemon) about their books, themselves and their writing lives.


Authors MJ Hyland (left) and Padma Viswanathan are featured in
the 105th Anniversary issue of MPH Quill


Also, an interview piece with first-time author Paul Callan, where he talks about himself and his debut novel, The Dulang Washer.

Paul Callan, author of The Dulang Washer


Other interesting bits include:

Wena Poon's (Lions in Winter, Alex y Robert) sojourn at the 2011 Hong Kong International Literary Festival, where she discovers the international reach of Malaysian and Singaporean women novelists.

Mary Schneider's piece on photographer Dr Ooi Cheng Ghee and his involvement in the coffeetable book Portraits of Penang: Little India, published by Areca Books.

More interesting bits about Mysore, India, courtesy of newspaper columnist and occasional travel writer Alexandra Wong.

Tom Sykes summary on some gwailo novelists' works set in Southeast Asia, and excerpts from A Subtle Degree of Restraint and Other Stories, as well as Looking Back: Monday Musings and Memories, an upcoming reprint of Tunku's original 1970s edition.

...And more!

Saturday, 13 August 2011

Fasting Month Fracas

Many years back, I'd been eating something when two Malay boys walked past. It was the fasting month, so one of them went, "Oh dear, he's eating in front of me!"

Of course I was traumatised by that. I still remember it, even though it happened in the 80s. If you're reading this, Mohd Ishak, from Francis Light Primary School (1), Penang, mohon maaf.

To this day I feel a bit self-conscious when eating in public during that time of the year. I sometimes wonder what prompted that outburst. I don't think it was anger, though. I didn't get a dressing-down over it, nor was I beaten up.

But what would happen in school these days if someone made the same boo-boo I did?

Those days of Ramadhan past were dredged up by this report yesterday morning:

The Home Ministry has called up the Group Chief Editor of The Star for running buka puasa articles together with stories on non-halal restaurants.

Its deputy secretary-general (Security) Datuk Abdul Rahim Mohamad Radzi said the pictures and also promotion of non-halal restaurants were carried in the paper's Dining Out supplement, with "Ramadan delights" as its cover headline.

I shook my head and then rummaged the paper pile in the office for the "offending" supplement.

There, in all its glory at the top left corner of page four, a picture of a Chinese restaurant's "must try" Mongolian pork rib. Ah yes, I missed the ad on page two for Morganfield's "Sticky Bones", a sick, huge slab of what looks like barbecued pork ribs.

The next few pages were advertorials for a dim sum place, Morganfield's, the gastropub chain Library and a bistro-type place with a selection of "over 400 Old World and New World wines".

In an ideal world, a person would just shake one's head, chuckle and read the rest of the section, then move on to the funnies. One could, after that, calmly write a letter to the editor, because that would be the most rational thing to do. But this world is far from ideal, so things such as "tolerance", "understanding" and "rationality" don't always make an appearance.

Of late, The Star has been slipping up on occasion. Reshuffling hiccups? Maybe. Was it 2.30am when they finally closed it, all bone-tired and bleary-eyed? Plausible.

The whole thing's quite unfortunate. From the mix of ads I saw it looked as if they were trying to be impartial, maybe make the fasting month a little more special for everyone. Just like what Whole Foods is doing in the US.

Days earlier, the American supermarket chain faced a similar situation after they put up a Ramadhan promotion. Yes.

Not everyone appreciated it, though. A conservative blogger hurled bile over how "anti-Israel" Whole Foods was shilling "for jihadi interests".

(Some researchers claim that poison arrow frogs source ingredients for their lethal neurotoxins from by eating certain insects. Not sure I want to know what that blogger's been into.)

No guesses as to why some Americans aren't taking a shine to the company's initiative. So, let's hear what a food blogger has to say about Ramadhan:

"...it is an incredibly important holy month for Muslims. For us, it is a time of reflection — a time to develop compassion for those who live with hunger and thirst as a way of life, and to do something to help them. It’s a time to practice self-control and willpower in the face of numerous temptations; and to purify one’s self by taking time to focus on character and purpose.

Of course, some bad apples, like the obvious ones over in Syria, don't seem to be getting with that programme. Small wonder that Ramadhan, like so many other aspects of Islam, is tainted by the actions of an extremist few.

But wait, you say. Things roll differently in Malaysia. The majority of people here celebrate Ramadhan, and anything deemed offensive to them may have huge effects. So, someone might have complained about it for the sake of the public.

I will audaciously presume that "the public" here includes me.

Yes, I suppose that's how we've been taught. I for one, however, would be offended to have someone complain on my behalf about things that "offend" my sensibilities. Just as how some are offended by any suggestion that their spirituality during the holy month is fragile.

If I were, I'd rather do my own complaining because I'm so much better at it, and am capable of more measured responses.

Also, it's not as if all the establishments in that supplement were non-halal. One can still pick his or her way through the section to find more appropriate places to break fast. Recommendations not good enough? Bambu the paper with that letter I suggested you write, and maybe suggest some places you know have good buka puasa grub.

This isn't exactly new. I remember hearing (in 2007) about someone being offended by a food writer's article on roti babi in Penang a while back, simply because of the four-letter word. Incidentally, the article was published not long after the start of the fasting month then (13 September to 12 October).

So I guess it has been with us for a long while. This... anger, this hair-trigger tendency to get upset whenever our sensibilities are offended. Have we always been this way, or did things get even worse since my primary school days?

I believe that people take offence because they choose to take offence. So much ill feeling can be avoided if we ignored, rather than took, offence at certain things. There's plenty going on lately that's more worthy of our outrage, but that's not the point of this rant.

And no, I don't think non-Muslims at home need to be educated about Islam or Ramadhan. If there's anyone out there who needs that education, it's the Yankees who, judging from the Whole Foods thingy, aren't exactly the most informed people on this planet.

As Mohammed al-Rehaief learned, to his chagrin, when he visited Jessica Lynch's hometown of Palestine, West Virginia.

al-Rehaief was the Iraqi doctor who helped Lynch, a survivor of an ambush by insurgents. But when he called on her, she was, it seemed, too busy to see him. And it got better:

The failed visit ended on a somewhat farcical note when local townspeople offered the al-Rehaiefs a meal - of ham sandwiches and burgers - only to discover that they were fasting for Ramadhan and, in any case, being Muslim, did not eat ham.

How tragic-comic. Not even worth a cringe or facepalm.

In the spirit of the fasting month, why not a lawatan sambil mengajar to the US heartland and educate these benighted heathens about religion and Ramadhan? And maybe undo some of the damage done by Fox News supremo Roger Ailes and his ilk? Some of the noise coming out of that so-called "news channel" is categorically carcinogenic.

A much better cause than banning beer, gatecrashing charity dinners, burning web sites and chastising newspapers for what looks like a genuine slip-up.

Wednesday, 3 August 2011

Coffee Craving

I woke up from a daydream one day and thought, "I think I'll read some books about coffee."

Though a favourite beverage, my love for coffee never went beyond theory or the basic stuff I'd whip up in my kitchen which would reduce real coffee lovers to tears.


Somewhat random selection of coffee-related reads


But I figured one needs to start somewhere.

  • The Devil's Cup
    A History of the World According to Coffee

    Stewart Lee Allen
    Ballantine Books (2003)
    240 pages
    Non-fiction
    ISBN: 9780345441492

    Stewart Lee Allen travels about 75 per cent the world on a caffeinated quest to find out whether the advent of coffee birthed an enlightened western civilisation, and if coffee is the substance that drives history. Yes, it did and yes, it is, says the author.

  • The Coffee Book
    Anatomy of an Industry from Crop to the Last Drop

    Gregory Dicum, Nina Luttinger
    New Press (2006)
    232 pages
    Non-fiction
    ISBN: 9781595580603

    Completely revised and updated for 2006, this book explores production, the history of cafĂ© society, dramatic tales of high-stakes international trade, health aspects, the industry’s major players, and the specialty coffee revolution - including the very latest developments in sustainable coffee. Full of facts, figures, cartoons, photos, and commentary. Personally, I prefer the 1999 cover.

  • Uncommon Grounds
    The History of Coffee and How It Transformed Our World

    Mark Pendergrast
    Basic Books (2010)
    424 pages
    Non-fiction
    ISBN: 9780465018369

    Caffeinated beverage enthusiast Pendergrast approaches this history of the green bean with the zeal of an addict. His wide-ranging narrative takes readers from the legends about coffee's discovery, to the corporatisation of the specialty cafe. His broad vision, meticulous research and colloquial delivery combine aromatically, and he even throws in advice on how to brew the perfect cup.

Of course, I could order all three from Amazon if I wanted to, but after registering with the site to write reviews and learning that I'd have to buy the books first, I abandoned the site. Now I can't remember the user name and password I used, and I no longer care.

...Just a few more books to look out for when I'm out browsing.

Friday, 29 July 2011

Price Of Courage

Though The Absolutist was a simple book to review, I'm rather embarrassed by the results, which was published today. Not because it was tucked into a corner of a page of cinema screening schedules.

But, oddly enough, because it's so short.

I couldn't see much to write about. To say too much would give away parts of the novel I'd rather let people read about. And people should give this novel a go. Then, they should probably watch Captain America: The First Avenger.


Review of 'The Absolutist' by John Boyne in print
A novel about World War I soldiers (left) and a movie about
World War II soldiers. Coincidence?


Sure looks like they did a little homework before laying it out. Kind of clever.



Price of courage

first published in The Star, 29 July 2011


Renowned octogenarian author Tristan Sadler is at a prize-giving ceremony that also celebrates his long illustrious literary career.

The evening doesn't go so well, however. An exchange with a rude, callous, young and upcoming writer sours his mood, and he takes it out on a newbie reporter who didn't do his homework before interviewing him. Though the prize is prestigious and rarely given out, he thinks the thing is ugly.

After the ceremony, Tristan returns to his hotel where he finds an elderly woman waiting for him at the lounge. They know each other. She's Marian Bancroft and it appears she has unfinished business with him. This encounter is 60 years in the making and the story leading up to it is in the unpublished manuscript in Tristan's hotel room. Which you would be reading as John Boyne's novel, The Absolutist, if you picked it up.

It's 1919. A much younger Tristan Sadler is on the train from London to Norwich. He makes small talk with an aged female novelist of some renown. He himself is employed by a publisher, a possible foreshadowing of his future in publishing. But his business in Norwich is not with books but letters.

World War I has ended, and he brings letters from the front, presumably unsent, written by his friend Will Bancroft. The letters are addressed to his sister Marian, and there may be a reason why he's delivering the letters himself.

Tristan and Will met at the military town of Aldershot three years earlier, where they trained with other young men – boys, some of them – and formed a bond that strengthened as they faced death and desolation in the trenches during the war.

As the days on the battlefield wear on, they keep a depressing count of their comrades-at-arms who died, deserted or went mad. One day, Will lays down his arms and declares himself an "absolutist" – someone who refuses to contribute even an iota of effort to the war. To the rest of his comrades, he is just another coward. Will is executed as a traitor for his decision, shaming his family's name.

But of course, this isn't the whole story. Besides the letters, Tristan tells Marian why Will objected to the war, but not the circumstances surrounding his death. The letters say nothing; only Tristan knows. But will he find the courage Will had to reveal them?

The Absolutist is short, focused as it is on Tristan, Marian and his friendship with Will. The novel is also a sad, poignant tale of war, of what young men had to endure in the trenches and the shattered lives left in the wake of their deaths. It also sheds some light on Tristan's own sad story, how he came to know Will, and the burden of truth he has borne through the years.

Tightly-woven, straightforward and unpretentious, the writing is an example of fine storytelling and the plot is easy to follow. A nice read overall, even if the story sort of plods along in parts (such as Tristan's vignettes in sleepy Norwich as he struggles with whether to spill the whole bag of beans to Marian). You can imagine this as a full-length feature film as you read, but try not to press the imaginary fast-forward button – that will spoil the whole experience.

I'd say more but because of the brevity of this novel, I'm already treading the thin red line between review and spoiler. Suffice it to say this is definitely worth picking up.



The Absolutist
John Boyne
Doubleday (2011)
309 pages
Fiction
ISBN: 978-0-385-61605-8

Tuesday, 26 July 2011

Sassy Schoolmarm

I'd originally picked up Catherine Lim's Miss Seetoh in the World along with a bunch of books to be reviewed in The Star but it was dropped to accommodate an interview piece related to her next book (A Watershed Election: Singapore’s GE 2011, I think). But the paper graciously permitted me to blog it instead.

Miss Seetoh , which was published last November, is "a very special book for two reasons", Lim blogs. "Firstly, it came at the end of the longest break - 7 years! - in my writing career, and secondly, it is the first novel to have a strong political component which might just make it my most controversial work of fiction."

I took a deep breath, held my nose and dived in.

Singaporean schoolteacher Maria Seetoh was brought up under conventional circumstances - typical of the female leads in Lim's novels. Seetoh's English is also very powderful one. Somewhat precocious as a child, she's the type that might have despaired her teachers and the nuns at her school, prompting them during meetings to ask colleagues, "How do you solve a problem like Maria..."

No surprise then, that she ended up teaching English at a creative writing class in secondary school. Her students are a joy to teach, and the classes are her Wonderland. She also has two friends, both teachers.

However, against her desire to buck religious and social norms, she had married a conservative Christian guy who'd rather she stayed at home, cooked, cleaned and made his children. Of course theirs was a loveless marriage, which ended when the guy died of an illness.

Seetoh's widowed mom disapproves of her newly liberated daughter's affair. Her ne'er-do-well stepbrother has gambled his way to loan shark hell and eventually takes his family and mother away to a new life in Malaysia.

And Seetoh sees stories everywhere, like how the Sixth Sense kid sees dead people.

She sees the story of her marriage in nine words coined by a student. She sees a story in the shared life of her two friends. She has a mind to respond to an anti-Singlish campaign by writing a story in Singlish. Musings on the Singaporean obsession with the GCE O-Level cert pulled odd bits of ideas in her head into a story.

The sad tale of her grandmother's life? She'd love to write about that; it'll be a short story, in the passive voice. When down on her luck one day, she thought she'd write a funny book. The love lives of her family's women? Write-worthy! Everything, it seems, can be put to paper.

Thing is, writing and telling stories is what this sassy Singaporean schoolmarm has been doing throughout the 480-odd pages of Miss Seetoh, and it soon dawns on the reader that the protagonist may be Lim's in-novel persona. The outspoken, unconventional Lim was once a teacher and apparently loves to write; her portfolio includes seven novels, a bunch of short story collections and two poetry books.

This hoagie of a novel looks like an attempt to make up for lost time. Snippets of Seetoh's life, from her childhood to her eventual liberation from the shackles of tradition, marriage and career are spliced with childhood recollections, socio-political commentary, existentialistic and introspective ponderings, questions, and musings, peppered and punctuated with pseudo-aphorisms and non sequiturs with tenuous ties to the storyline.

While talking about so-and-so, suddenly Seetoh recalls some mahjong quartet from a distant memory. Then, laments over the Singaporean obsession with "the five Cs" and stellar exam results and the island nation's barren pool of creativity. At least four pages on the conditional mood. Over five pages on love and the nature of things.

A chapter set in the botanical gardens sees her imagination take flight. On religion: "Someone had once said that those who abandoned God were left with a God-shaped hole that nothing could fill. Hers was being richly filled with all manner of things that did not even have names."

Of the gardens' visitors and inhabitants: "The great chain of happiness-seeking could be extended downwards to include the tiniest organisms inside each of [their] bodies, for surely even these primordial forms of life sought their own kind of happiness, and upwards to include the deities of Providence residing in those huge ageless trees, for surely even gods needed to be happy."

Various elements in the book don't segue well from one to the other. The reader is dragged out of a chapter of her life and then plunged into her thoughts or given a peek into the workings of a nanny state (as she sees it), before being yanked by the wrist towards the next chapter of her or someone else's life. It is one rough theme park ride that tries to pack too much into one circuit.

A huge pity, because Lim can really write. But here, she makes the reader work to uncover the rare displays of wit and wordcraft among the platitudes and flowery prose. The well-worn use of an author's avatar in this novel is unnecessary, as Lim is more than capable of social commentary without the need for literary stand-ins.

And the stepbrother going to Malaysia to escape from loan sharks says something about what Seetoh/the Malaysian-born Lim thinks about her adopted homeland.

When all of Seetoh's personal troubles are behind her and the political one looms - not a big one, as her contribution to the "earth-shattering political revelation" is but a footnote - the suspense and the political thriller parts kick in, but exits the stage a bit too soon, leaving us with barely a taste of what else the author can do.

Miss Seetoh is not a bad book, and none should doubt Lim's command of the language. It could be an even better book if she didn't work so hard to make it an all-in-one package.


Also published in The Malaysian Insider, 10 April 2013.



Miss Seetoh in the World
Catherine Lim
Marshall Cavendish Editions (2011)
487 pages
Fiction
ISBN: 978-981-4328-36-4