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Wednesday, 5 June 2013

News: Literary Magpies, Tweets, And The National Language

Did Rudyard Kipling cop to plagiarism in a letter? In the Daily Telegraph, Christopher Howse says no. Plagiarism might be "the fairy godmother of invention" but also of lawsuits, pulped books, and ruined reputations.

Writing in the Guardian, Sarah Churchwell suggests that Kipling was a "literary magpie" who reworked certain themes from other works into his own. "Shakespeare's reliance on various older chronicles for his characters and plots is a commonplace," she writes, "and it would be ludicrous to suggest that in Paradise Lost Milton was 'plagiarising' the story of Genesis."



"As the columnist at a literary website, I once wrote about tough truths related to self-publishing. ... That editing and cover design are hard. That most self-published books earn only a modest return. That a lot of the advocates are just selling themselves. ... And that resulted in scores of people calling me profane names."

Rob W Hart's shift from self-publishing to traditional opens his eyes to how indie publishing has become a cult.



Erna Mahyuni, our favourite Sabahan laments the "slow, sad death of Bahasa Malaysia", which she suggests is partly aided by state media agencies. "According to Bernama, 'hurricane' is 'hurikan' and 'billionaire' is 'billionair' in Englayu," she writes, coining a new word of her own. "Utusan has coined the very rempit-sounding 'dijel” instead of 'dipenjara'."

Not to mention 'subjek' (subject) and 'bajet' (budget), But 'hurikan' is not a recent coinage. I remember seeing it in an old geography textbook once in school, along with 'siklon'. Odd, considering both refer to the same phenomenon.

Are the alleged offenders going to chalk it up to the pressure of tight deadlines? Erna cheekily suggests that, "Perhaps this is an insidious plot by seditious individuals who are trying to make English the national language. At the rate Bahasa is 'evolving' into English, we might as well just give up and replace the Kamus Dewan with the Oxford Dictionary."

Dengar, dengar.



Some tweets to share, including one from Sufian Abas:




...and Michael Ruhlman, marriage counsellor:




All in jest, I'm sure.

Right. What else is out there?

Tuesday, 4 June 2013

Golden Brown

I wasn't sure I was up to the task of reviewing a Dan Brown book. What's there to look at? Could I be fair, when others at more established names couldn't seem to be?

I didn't spend time dismantling the logic and history. Avoiding other reviews while I wrote my own as tough; the bandwagon's pretty big and easy to get into. But I guess that, considering the size and hard cover, it sufficed as light reading.

About "symbology" ...

Wikipedia lists the word as "a fictional academic discipline of which the character Robert Langdon is a professor." On a list of ten mistakes and oversimplifications in the book over at The Daily Beast, the word is "nonsensical".

So I used that article's 'correct' word for Langdon's occupation in the review (carelessly wrapping it in square brackets). But didn't some modern 'nonsensical' words become accepted, after being baptised by popular usage - and the Internet?

For now, I guess, it's "iconography" or "semiotics".



Golden Brown
Finger lickin' good Florentine fun from the Colonel Sanders of the genre

first published in The Malaysian Insider, 04 June 2013


Would you believe that this is the first time I've read any of Dan Brown's books?

Until now, I've only followed the news, read the hype and laughed at the brickbats. No way all of that could be true, I thought.

Then a copy hit my table with a thud.

I took just two hours to finish it.

My unfamiliarity with the author's work and the circus precludes me from fact-checking his alleged mistakes and gloss-overs, so I'll leave that to more capable hands.

But I will say this: Dan Brown's Inferno is, thus far, the greatest movie I've ever read.

From what I have gleaned of Brown's books, those who expect a refinement of his style will probably be disappointed. Fans, however, will be glad to know little has changed.


Italian job
After uncovering the secrets of the Freemasons in The Lost Symbol, Harvard professor of art history and iconography Tom Hank— sorry, Robert Langdon wakes up from a nightmare and finds himself in a hospital with stitches in his scalp and absolutely no clue how he got there.

After speaking to the "tall and lissome" and (one assumes) attractive Dr Sienna Brooks, Langdon, thinking he's still in the States, looks out the window and sees the Palazzo Vecchio — and learns that he's not quite in Massachusetts anymore.

Outside, a female assassin waits. Five miles off Italy's coast, her boss, a man Brown simply calls "the provost", waits for good news in a mysterious US$300 million (RM929 million) yacht and floating military command centre.

Nothing like that is forthcoming. But the provost isn't the only one having a bad day.

After fleeing another assassination attempt, Langdon learns that the willowy Sienna is not only a mutant but a former child prodigy with an IQ higher than Stephen Hawking's. He also finds that he's in possession of a biohazard canister.

Soon, armed men come a-knocking shortly after he calls the US embassy. With Sienna in tow, the inevitable chase begins as Langdon tries to remember what happened in the past couple of days — and unravel a madman's dastardly plot, partly inspired by Florentine poet Dante Alighieri's Divine Comedy.

To add to his list of "?!"-punctuated what-the-hecks, security cameras caught him "stealing" Dante's death-mask hours before he woke up in the hospital.

Nothing like having both sides of the law snapping at one's Somerset-clad heels to add excitement to a bit of historical forensics.


Abandon all prejudice, ye who read this
As the pages turned quickly, I began to see the appeal of novels like this. Cleverly written with hooks and cliffhangers at the end of each short chapter, you just can't put this 460-odd-page novel down until you're done with it.

The only other time I've experienced this compulsion to finish something was at a KFC outlet — or when I opened up a bag of Cheezels I bought last week.

You don't care that it's not literary writing. You learn to skip the piles of exposition and slipped-in trivia, obviously for the benefit of those who can't access their smartphones for some impromptu Googling. I saw less of the groan-worthy similes Brown's famous for; maybe I learned to skip those, too. The expository parts do mess up the flow of the story, like annoying pop-up ads.

Some of the descriptive passages, however, are written in such vivid detail one is compelled to actually fly there to see, for instance, the cringe-inducing "penile grip" featured in the sculpture of Hercules and Diomedes in the Hall of the Five Hundred, or the "intimidating array" of male nudes at the Palazzo Vecchio. Then, there's the superb copywriting on the Church of Dante.

All bound to reinforce the faith Florence's city officials have in Brown's apparent ability to revive flagging tourism industries.


Tripping over trivia
It's not all tourist spots and history. At one point the Harvard dreamboat shares some esoteric knowledge: "Regular gesso smells like chalk. Wet dog is acrylic gesso."

We also get a brief dissertation on the science of denial, along with aphorisms such as, "In the world of book publishing, late-night emergencies were as rare as overnight success." (Shouldn't it be "are"? Is the book publishing industry past tense?)

As well as an endorsement for the iPhone — and e-books. "I've got to stop being such a snob about leather-bound books... E-books do have their moments."

The wit and writing is sophomoric, the preachy bits on human folly are tedious, and the denouement might elicit a huge WTF, even among ardent Brownians.

And there is next to no chemistry between Hank-er, Langdon and the willowy tagalong Sienna. The mistakes she made, for someone of her superb IQ, is conveniently covered by her traumatic past.

Still, Inferno is a pretty solid potboiler that will have you hooked right until the last page.



Inferno
Dan Brown
Doubleday (May 2013)
463 pages
Fiction
ISBN: 978-0-385-53785-8

Saturday, 1 June 2013

Masterclass in Session: Clicking With Kid Chan

Hot on the heels of Amber Chia's MPH Masterclass guide to a modelling career is Kid Chan's MPH Masterclass guide to starting a photography business.

I'd thought that the format for the cover would be similar to the previous one, but I guess photographers just have to be different. At least it means each book in the series will be unique.


Front and back of Kid Chan's Guide to the Business of Photography
(he might have comments about my photo-taking skills)


Malaysia's shutterbug to the stars was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. However, things soured when the family's fortunes declined and his parents divorced. After completing his tertiary studies, he became the personal assistant to the founder of the Metropolitan College Group.

Several years later, he left this somewhat cushy job to take over his sister's failing photography studio. This was the beginning of his uphill climb to where he is today. He learned practically everything from scratch and had to endure more batterings to his ego.

His foray into photography began taking off when he was doing weddings. Who would've thought that wedding photography had the stigma attached to it?

Once he bit the bullet and did his best at it, wedding photography started opening doors for him, especially after he adopted Denis Reggie's approach to shooting weddings.

These days people pay heaps for any photographer who can make their (generally) once-in-a-lifetime event look like a one-in-a-million spectacle. So you could say that Kid Chan was a pioneer of wedding photojournalism in Malaysia, albeit a reluctant one.

In this instalment in the MPH Masterclass series, Kid Chan shares what he has picked up in all his years in the field.

Tips include practical, down-to-earth advice on choosing equipment, premises, hiring help, projecting a professional image, leveraging on social media, photo retouching, and navigating some of the pitfalls of the job. Photos from Kid's past and him on the job brings his story and career to life.

"Success stems from many things," he wrote. "Luck certainly plays a role and I have indeed been very lucky. I've had some great mentors who guided me along the way. And I also created some of my own luck by being willing to do all the small little things that needed to be done along the way."

Maybe getting this book could be one "small little thing" you can do if you're considering the life of a professional photographer.

Kid Chan's Guide to the Business of Photography will be launched some time in June and will be available at all major bookstores.



Kid Chan's Guide to the Business of Photography
Kid Chan
MPH Group Publishing
191 pages
Non-fiction
ISBN: 978-967-415-121-8

Buy from MPHOnline.com

Thursday, 30 May 2013

Wandering Woman

Reading some of the tales in this book, one wonders why Zhang Su Li does the things she does to herself. But I suppose that - and the honesty - is part of the book's charm.

Way back in 2007, Marshall Cavendish published some of Zhang's travel tales in a collection called, A Backpack and a Bit of Luck. Some months back, more stories from her travels in Malaysia appeared in another travel story collection, Sini Sana ("Here and There" in Malay).

The boss would know the details about why Zhang wants to republish A Backpack with MPH. For me, it was a chance to read the book for free, after hearing about it for so long.


Old trails, revisited
Zhang had been a copywriter for years, and it shows. Occasional flashes of what I would assume is literary flair shows up in the book. Colourful, vivid descriptions attempt to put the reader in her shoes as she trots, hikes, stumbles and saunters her way through life and the exotic locales in the collection.

A showcase of her talent can be found in her (mis)adventures as an apprentice Odissi dancer in India, which is worthy of its own staged epic and takes up over a third of the book. What is perhaps the best story in the book also captivated a fellow editor.

For Zhang, the classical Indian art is physically, emotionally and spiritually demanding, particularly the physical part: "In learning Odissi, you become aware of the muscles you never knew you had," Zhang writes. "You also have to disregard the bones you always knew you had."

She describes the sights and sounds from an Indian roadside that conjures all the mental images and feelings needed to fill in the blanks.

Vivid memories of standing by a roadside littered with rubbish, cows, donkeys, pigs, dogs, crows and peacocks, barefoot children in rags with lice in their hair, snot down their noses and possibly somebody else's wallet in their pockets. A dog was dying on one side of the road. On the other, a cow was giving birth. Children were laughing and crying. People were chatting and quarrelling. Animals snorted, barked, mooed and squawked. Cars. Vans. Buses. Motorbikes. Bicycles. Honking their horns and ringing their bells. Swerving around the mobile landmarks and carcasses of small unidentifiable animals. At remarkable speeds, with impressive accuracy.

India is a land of extremes, from her point of view. Living and learning at her Odissi guru's neighbourhood at the New Okhla Industrial Development Authority (Noida) in Uttar Pradesh was, I take it, an enlightening experience that builds character, nurtures the spirit and sharpens hyperbole:

Only God knows why in India, there is no such thing as medium, or 'just nice'. On a scale of one to ten, all the numbers from two to nine seems to be missing. In winter, the water is so cold your tits get numb just looking at the bucket.

And isn't it just like a copywriter to anthropomorphise dust? Indian dust, to be precise:

The seams of my mobile phone were packed with dirt no matter how often I tried to clean it with the edge of a fingernail. Anything with a screw top ... oooh, baby ... here they come! Flat surfaces are just too easy for them; they're already occupied by less ambitious dust particles anyway. ... Nothing, nothing, nothing escapes the clutches of Indian dust.

Not all adventures are as action-packed, dramatic or memorable. Zhang appears to find Helsinki boring. The city boasts a Stockmann's departmental store that seems to have become a reference point to all other places in the city. But even in a squeaky-clean utopia of a Scandinavian city, she finds a silver lining:

"Excuse me, where's the railway station?"

"You go past Stockmann, turn left, then past the traffic lights, and take a right..."

Or, "Excuse me, how do I get to the Pyramids of Giza?"

"You go past Stockmann, and you turn right, and..."

Or, "Hello, where can I get a large rubber hose with fur attachments to hit myself on the backside with?"

"You go past Stockmann..."

...Aww nuts, she's just being cheeky. The fur-augmented rubber hose didn't happen ... right?

But if there is a place where Finns can indulge in their own Fifty Shades of Grey fantasies, their country isn't all that boring.


Meet, greet and (maybe) eat
Zhang's penchant for travelling and talking to strangers may have begun when, as a schoolgirl, she met an old British chap who was posted to Malaya and had lunch with him at his home. This pattern of meet, greet and eat would repeat itself at various points in her life.

During a Kruger Park safari, she 'cures' a travelling companion of 'malaria' and, later, helps raid an ostrich nest at a farm in South Africa for a monster-sized sunny-side-up.

Job searches in the UK lead her to quirky and often charming characters in a British pub and its landlady's peace-making custard cream biscuits; and a gambling den and its greasy, chauvinistic manager's "turkey stew" ("Tin 'a turkey roll, baked beans, mix 'em together." Then, keep it in a safe for one night. Eww.)

A flat tyre along a dark silent highway ends in a late-night tom yam and lessons on patience, humility and the kindness of strangers. Answering a call from another kind stranger while searching for Atlantis in Santorini nets her some salt-cured sardines, ouzo and an olive-branch wreath for protection.

At a cemetery in Vienna, she toasted marshmallows with an old bag lady. And a throw of the dart sends her to Myanmar on a bumpy cross-country bus ride to a feast of salad, fried bugs and sago palm worms.

Not bad for a former student at an English school who's terrified of earthworms. Come a long way since then, she has.

And there's more where that came from.

Poignant, funny, punny, a little pugnacious and kind of fun, Zhang is not shy about her own shortcomings even as she strives to overcome them, documenting every misstep for our entertainment and education.

So go on. Pick this up and find out what one phone call, a swing of the steering wheel or a knock on the door can lead to. You might be surprised.


Zhang Su Li's A Backpack and a Bit of Luck will be republished by MPH, plus some edits. Copies of the original Marshall Cavendish edition may still be available at bookstores.



A Backpack and a Bit of Luck
Stories of a Traveller with No Sense of Direction

Zhang Su Li
MPH Group Publishing
285 pages
Non-fiction
ISBN: 978-967-415-866-8

Buy from MPHOnline.com

Monday, 27 May 2013

News: Open Letter, Blurbs, And Amazon Kindles Fanficdom Fire

A certain blind Socialist woman penned a letter to a bunch of German university students in 1933 who planned to burn some books, including hers. That was the year Adolf Hitler became the German Chancellor, by the way.

"History has taught you nothing if you think you can kill ideas," it begins. "Tyrants have tried to do that often before, and the ideas have risen up in their might and destroyed them."

Not that she's unaware of the issues behind it. "I acknowledge the grievous complications that have led to your intolerance; all the more do I deplore the injustice and unwisdom of passing on to unborn generations the stigma of your deeds."

That this blind lady sees the value of and appreciates what some of us take for granted: ideas and letters on a page should shame book-burners everywhere and through the ages.

What? You've never heard of Helen Keller?

Okay, what else?

  • Amazon has started a publishing model to crowdsource fanfic. Authors Malinda Lo and John Scalzi has some thoughts about it - few of them good.
  • Beth Hayden over at Copyblogger on why writing is scary, and why writers must write through fear. "If we let fear stop us, our content will have no spark, no life. And everything we write will be completely unremarkable."
  • "Do snippets of inflated praise on dust jackets make any difference to potential readers standing in a bookstore? Is anyone buying Benjamin Percy’s werewolf novel, 'Red Moon,' because John Irving called it 'terrifying'?" Book blurbs are "terrifying", Ron Charles suggests.
  • How a writer used Wikipedia to buff his ego and settle scores - and cast more doubt upon Wikipedia as an online info source.
  • After doing some homework, restaurant critic Jay Rayner eats crow over a past outburst over food miles. This is why Rayner deserves respect, even if he is a little shouty and abrasive.
  • Why literary criticism still matters. I know I'm beating a dead horse.
  • A farmer in the US explains certain questions you shouldn't ask at farmers markets in the US.
  • Nationalist politics in China's film industry is kind of ... worrying.
  • Manila's city chairman roasts Dan Brown for calling the capital the "gates of hell" for its "six-hour traffic jams, suffocating pollution [and] horrifying sex trade" in his latest book, Inferno.

    Some commenters on the original news report, however, say that Brown, who is reputed to be fond of re-interpreting history and science to suit his plots, was kind of spot on about Manila in that book.

    So, I guess he won't be helping much with Filipino tourism as much as, say, Florentine or Venetian tourism.

Sunday, 26 May 2013

Lost, Then Found

first published in The Star, 26 May 2013


♪ ... we are poor little lambs who have lost our way
Baa, baa, baa! ♫


In those lines from the opening sequence of the old TV series Baa Baa Black Sheep (aka, the Black Sheep Squadron), one feels all that's heroic, heartwarming, harrowing and horrific in World War II. The book I'd finished in just one night had the same effect, albeit with a few chuckles.

While rummaging through old newspaper archives, former journalist, and now professor of journalism at Boston University, Mitchell Zuckoff uncovered lots of hidden gems. One of these became Lost In Shangri-La, an airplane crew's story of survival and salvation in the dense jungles of Papua New Guinea during World War II (which I reviewed in 2011).

Now Zuckoff is back with another, similar epic: Frozen In Time. This time, he became more involved with the story he was writing, going so far as to visit plane-crash sites in freezing cold weather and giving a stranger his credit card. The things authors do to write books these days....

Greenland, according to Zuckoff, was a source of natural cryolite, used in processing the aluminium that went into American and Canadian warplanes during World War II. That, and Greenland's potential as a staging area for a blitzkrieg-style attack on Europe, led to the US setting up bases there.

Greenland was a tough posting. It's cold, of course, and layers of snow hide deep gaps in the glaciers underneath. When fog or a storm rolls in and covers the horizon, the ground becomes indistinguishable from the sky. Even experienced aviators can't tell which way is up when caught in this hazardous phenomenon, known appropriately as "flying in milk".

This book is about not one but three plane crashes. In 1942, the crash of a C-53 Skytrooper in Greenland sent planes in the air in a search operation. One of those planes, a B-17 bomber, crashed while searching for the C-53. Much of the story revolves around the crew of this B-17.

Unlike Zuckoff's other war tale, some of the people involved perished trying to rescue the victims. One of the rescue planes that didn't make it home was a Grumman J2F-4 piloted by Coast Guard members Lieutenant John Pritchard Jr and Radioman First Class Benjamin Bottoms. The plane, also known as the "Duck", crashed while carrying a crew member of the crashed B-17.

Zuckoff not only unearthed the story of the three planes and their crew, he also learned about the people who were trying to bring the Duck and its crew and passenger home. To write a complete account of the three plane crashes, the author joined the 2012 quest to find the Duck.

As I see it, the "Duck Hunt", as the search was called, was primarily driven by two figures. Zuckoff is wary of photographer and explorer Lou Sapienza whose "default posture" reminds the author of a certain windmill-tilter, especially after Sapienza gets him to pay for a shared taxi. And "Don Quixote" wanted Jon Krakauer (of Into Thin Air fame) to write this story. The other guy, retired Coast Guard captain Tom King collects Coast Guard relics to preserve them and keep them away from profiteering wreck-hunters. As Grumman Ducks were rare WW2 planes, the Greenland Grumman may be worth several million.

Tom King has another, more personal reason: "I don't want to see John Pritchard's wallet being sold on eBay."

Those who read Lost In Shangri-La can expect a similar kind of narrative from Zuckoff here, except with even more testosterone. Imagine Band Of Brothers set in an icy landscape and made by National Geographic. There's plenty of drama to keep the pages turning, and heaps of background information to slow things down, too. Zuckoff has done his homework, as attested to by over 20 pages of source references.

As we follow the travails of the B-17 crew and their rescuers amidst dangers that lurk in the white, we are taken back to each major character's beginnings in relatively fairer climes and times and told how they got to Greenland and, later, learn of their ultimate fates.

Back in the present, we see how the search is hampered by inaccurate maps, a lack of thorough planning, expertise and funding, a clash of personalities, and the harsh Greenland winter.

Zuckoff helps out by giving Sapienza cash and, later, his credit card number. "In no time, Lou (Sapienza) blows past the limit I set." The author's sacrifices provide much of the humour in the latter-day part of this saga, for which I was grateful.

Too many names to mention this time around, as we go from the crash victims' makeshift weather-beaten shelters against the cold to the meeting rooms where creases in the Duck Hunt are being ironed out and, finally, what may be the Duck's final resting place.

Throughout his potentially quixotic mission to bring us the tales of these brave men – in the past and present – Zuckoff is at times asked, "How does the book end?"

Not in the way you would think. History buffs, however, will thank him for getting this story out of the ice.


02/01/2014: Amended this bit to clarify exactly who perished; people died in the plane crash in Lost in Shangri-La, not the rescuers.



Frozen in Time
An Epic Story of Survival and a Modern Quest for Lost Heroes of World War II

Mitchell Zuckoff
HarperCollins (2013)
391 pages
Non-fiction
ISBN: 978-0-06-226937-9

Thursday, 23 May 2013

Reading 'Readings' Again

first published in The Malaysian Insider, 23 May 2013


For reasons I'll only divulge over coffee, I haven't gotten involved in anything related with Readings since 2011. But is the latest release of Readings from Readings 2 that bad?

Not really.


Collective camaraderie
Local poet, writer, and lecturer Bernice Chauly founded Readings about eight years ago. The "live" reading event, which usually takes place on the last Saturday of each month, is currently held at Seksan's, a house in Lucky Garden in Bangsar that landscape architect Ng Seksan turned into an art gallery and office.

When Bernice could no longer manage Readings, it was bequeathed to Sharon Bakar, a writer, editor and creative writing teacher. Readings has hosted more than 400 writers, from the man-on-the-street types to names such as Tan Twan Eng, Tash Aw, Hishamuddin Rais, Kam Raslan and Preeta Samarasan.

I've lost count over the number of Readings sessions I've attended, but it must've been somewhere between 10 and 12. Most of these took place on warm, often muggy Saturday afternoons. Trees provided little shade, and the breeze mostly stayed away.

The crowd is a mix as eclectic as the reader line-ups. Some were new faces who have never been published before, let alone read their work aloud in front of strangers, some of whom are formidable figures in writing and publishing.

For new or unpublished writers, Readings can be a launchpad to greater heights. Simply showing up and, maybe, buying a copy or five of the books on sale helps.

Because of the current state of the local writing pool, seasoned Malaysian writers, editors and publishers are eager to share and help grow local talent ― and they should be! Every achievement, every success story, no matter how small, is celebrated.


From Seksan's to the shelves
Coming out of over eight years of Readings, this second volume in the Readings from Readings series more or less lives up to its billing as a collection of new writing, and it's a gorgeous production, thanks to writer, poet and artist Shahril Nizam's unique touch.


Reports of their suckiness were greatly exaggerated


Many contributions are short, written as they were for their 15-minute time slot. Crafting exceptionally effective and powerful short stories is hard, so, kudos to those who managed to pull it off in this collection, like Chuah Guat Eng, who manages to channel the tortured mind of a child whose ignorance sparks a terrible tragedy.

For me, Fadz Johanabas's is arguably among the better pieces, as is Amir Hafizi's outlandish, rib-tickling paean-of-sorts to his dad which, one hopes, is not "fiction."

Even without the cadence of her calm voice, Lilian Tan's poems ― including the one about a stubborn raindrop ― manage to retain some of their potency. And how not to pity the poor girl in Cynthia Reed's tale of a makeover that ends badly?

This volume overall is a slight improvement over the first, with a good mix of new and familiar names. This would also mean that more will be expected from the third book, if it comes out.


Perils of podium to print
Translating the creative energy from people into a publication can be a dicey affair. There's plenty of that energy coming out of Readings, and even more potential. The people behind Readings and CeritAku are justifiably proud of what's coming out of their years of toil, and it's natural for them to feel it's all worth sharing.

As a collection of stories, it's lovely and well-crafted. No doubt a lot of work went into it, perhaps to make it representative (somewhat) of what Readings is and what comes out of it.

But like many multi-author short story collections, R from R 2's fruit-salad nature and the brevity of many of the contributions might also work against it. Not every writer's talent and voice can be effectively conveyed by a shortie.

In spite of frequent references to Malaysian identities, issues and idiosyncrasies, the "diversity of genres" from this "eclectic bunch" of writers is vast. Like a box of chocolates, certain flavours will be preferred over the others.

And it's likely that the newcomers' efforts will be unfairly judged and compared with those by the more well-known names, diminishing this book' significance as a showcase of new (read: previously unpublished) writing.

Putting poems in the mix without some form of segregation reflects the inclusive, freeform nature of the line-ups, but such a scheme doesn't translate well into print and the random appearance of genres tends to affect the reading momentum.

We can probably expect more Readings from Readings volumes, as the event marches towards its ninth year. Regardless of the reception given to this labour of love by the Readings people, they should be lauded, at the very least, for their efforts to bring the balmy, lit-filled weekend afternoon atmosphere at Seksan's to the world at large.



Readings from Readings 2
New Writing from Malaysia, Singapore and Beyond

edited by Bernice Chauly and Sharon Bakar
Word Works Sdn Bhd (2012)
206 pages
Fiction
ISBN: 978-967-10292-1-3