ReKindling The Passion

... the new Kindle edges even closer to the ideal of an e-book reader. The reading experience is immersive, natural and pleasant; the book catalog, while not yet complete, is growing and delivered instantaneously; and apart from the clicky keyboard (an unnecessary appendage 99.9 percent of the time), the design feels right.

David Pogue at The New York Times rather likes the newly launched Kindle 2. It has longer battery life, a bigger memory and can hold many more books. It can even read the books aloud to you!

And it is a hell of a lot less ugly than its predecessor. (Shame though about the silly name!)

So when can we see it here?

According to The Times, an Amazon spokesman in London said :

We are looking internationally and we know that customers are looking forward to getting their hands on a Kindle but we have no announcement to make at this time.

Sod it!

The technology is getting better, but why aren't e-books taking off? Bobby Johnson on The Guardian blog reckons there just isn't enough piracy! :

The real reason that the music industry came around to the idea of downloads wasn't because they had a startling insight into the future, or even because Apple forced the issue by building a clever ecosystem around the iPod (it didn't launch the iTunes store until 2003). It was because customers were choosing to pirate instead. ... To put it less glibly, the publishing industry isn't being forced to confront a radical shift in consumer behaviour caused by technology, because that scenario just is not happening. Customers aren't forcing the issue by choosing to abandon books and read pirated text instead. And this means the problem isn't there to be confronted.

And, of course, reading in general is having a hard time.

Silverfish's Raman gives his view on e-books and readers in The Malay Mail today.

No Swearing Please - We're Malaysians

Raman is much amused by an English translation of the Publication Guidelines from the Ministry of Internal Security (KDN) which landed in his email in-box (Mine too!)a few days ago. He notes that:

It is in Section 4 that the guidelines go into some specifics. The first sub-section is on writings and articles. Prohibited items include racial and religious prejudice. Okay. Sedition includes all of the former as well as (commentary on) politics and the economy that are contrary to "national principles". So, if the economy is bad you can't say it. Then comes the use of vulgar language. Okay, all you writers out there, if you are writing a story about construction workers, vegetable sellers or politicians in the Parliament, make sure they use proper language and anatomically correct descriptions. We're Malaysians, we don't swear. And, no sexual acts, please. By the way, mystery and mystical stories that conflict with Islamic principles are also not allowed.

The sender of the email was most tickled (though maybe that's the wrong choice of word) that sex-toys seemed to be listed under publications!!

Is it Really that Cool to be Dumb?

... asks Raman at the Malay Mail site, quoting yet another study which uncovers the fact that folks lie about their reading to impress the opposite sex :

Now a new survey of 1,543 people in Britain for the National Year of Reading campaign (according to a report in the BBC online) suggests that "nearly half of all men and one-third of women have lied about what they have read to try to impress friends or potential partners..." ... The report adds that men are twice as likely as women to lie about what books they have read to try to impress on a first date, and that for both men and women, exaggerating the extent of your literary appetite is second only to false boasts about previous conquests in bed.

And adds :

Well, well, well. So, it looks like reading (or pretending to read) is actually sexy after all.

What do you reckon to what Raman says about how :

... anti-intellectualism has almost become one of the main pillars of our culture.

(Oh dear, weren't we all forbidden to use the prefix anti- anymore because it is too negatif?) *

I do like Raman's weekly column. I was pulling his leg that at last he has found a place where he can be legitimately grouchy and get paid for it!

(*Honestly! That's not a joke! It was in the papers a day or two back but can't find the link. I suppose we will now have to have a Pro-Corruption Agency. Would make more sense, actually!)

Postscript :

Jennifer Schuessler on the Paper Cuts blog admits to lying about books she has read - to avoid having to say anything intelligent about them.

No Terrestrial Address Reason for Book Seizure

At The Nut Graph Zedeck Siew manged to catch up with Home Ministry's acting director for Selangor, Zainal Osman, to find out why copies of Farish Noor's book From Majapahit to Putrajaya were seized from Kinokuniya in a joint inspection carried out by officials from the ministry, and from three Islamic departments : Jabatan Agama Islam Selangor (Jais), Jabatan Agama Islam Wilayah Persekutuan (Jawi) and Jabatan Kemajuan Islam Malaysia (Jakim)*.

Would you believe it - the first reason for the confiscation was the book does not carry the publisher's terrestrial address? :

The first clause of Section 11 of the Printing Presses and Publications Act (PPPA) 1984 stipulates that “Every publication printed or published within Malaysia shall have printed legibly in Bahasa Malaysia or the English language on its first or last leaf the name and address of its printer and publisher.” ... According to Zainal, while the book does contain “Silverfish Books, Kuala Lumpur” on its first page, this is not sufficient to fulfil the requirements of the law. “We can already charge the publisher and bookseller in court,” he asserted. ... If convicted, they are liable to imprisonment for a term not exceeding one year, or to a fine not exceeding RM5,000, or both.

Raman of course explains that in the ten years since he has set up Silverfish, he has moved three times, and even if he had included a street address in the book at the time of publication, it wouldn't be valid now!

But it seems that the second reason why the book is under scrutiny was because it touches on issues concerning Islam. En. Zainul explains :

Because we have no expertise on this matter, we have sent it to Jakim for study.

And this is apparently why the investigation is taking so long and why no date can be given when Jakim would arrive at a decision about the book.

Raman's decision is to withdraw the book with immediate effect and to republish (since the book is not banned) - with the address included.

It will be interesting now to see what happens - or doesn't happen - with the book. But as I say, we are watching.

* JAIS = Islamic Department of Selangor (= JAWI = Islamic Department for the Federal Territory (i.e. Kuala Lumpur), JAKIM = Department of Islamic Development.

When is a Novel like a Durian?

It's really nice to see Preeta Samarasan interviewed by Masami Mustaza in today's Malay Mail ... but what an embarrassment that the headline in the print version screams :

Cameron Highlands Native has a Story to Tell

though it looks as though the online version (which will be up in a few hours) has put things right.

A related question. (Warning - Rant coming up.) Is Malaysia the only country where journalists interviewing authors feel they really don't need to read the book beforehand? I hear this over and over from authors, both local and visiting from overseas. Sometimes there is a legitimate excuse (your editor only gave you a day's notice beforehand - and yes, this has happened to me) but mostly it's a lack of professionalism in the industry as a whole.

Talking of the Malay Mail, I missed blogging about Mr. Raman's very interesting column Why I Read Fiction.

Ever heard a novel compared to a durian before? The comparison though is wonderfully apt :

I have come full circle and read mostly fiction now. Oh, there are the bummers, of course, and often all that pandering, stereotyping, clichés and bad writing gets to me such that I sometimes seriously want to tell the author never to write again. Still, I persist. It is like going through a basket of durians: you are pushed on by a memory of a really good fruit you once ate; you want to rediscover it, you want to feel again that creamy texture, you want to experience that divine bitter sweet taste once more. So, you are willing to go through an entire basket, through a lot of poor ones, average ones, okay ones, good ones before you finally get to that great one. Yes!

Matthew Thomas and the Handwritten Manuscript

I missed the interview with Matthew Thomas in the Malay Mail* (I can only conclude that it was a heavy-rainfall day of the sort that soaks the newspaper in the driveway before you rescue it - we've had a few of those recently!). So I was glad when Raman put the whole thing up on his website.

The picture shows Thomas, left with his friend M Keshavjee, at the book launch at Silverfish. I am much touched by the fact that Thomas initially submitted a handwritten manuscript to Raman!

*It's nice to see that the newspaper has its website up and running at last!

Book Banning a la Calvino

Raman now has a column in the Malay Mail and this week writes about banned books in Malaysia. I think he says it all very well.

(The piece is not online so I scanned it. Just click to full size.)

A Case for Pessimism?

This month's Time Out has a piece (which Eric has put up on his blog) by S.H. Lim about the state of local writing. Lim interviews the guys who should know - senior editor of MPH Group Publishing, Eric Forbes, and bookshop owner and publisher Raman Krishnan.

Raman says that despite the successes of our overseas published authors :

... these successes are just here and there. Sporadic. Intermittent. There's no pattern to suggest that things are different now. In any case, these are writers who live overseas (most of the time and make occasional visits to our shores to press skin with local readers to promote their books or to have face-time with their families), and are published there. Not here.

Eric points to the need to put in place the right building blocks if you want publishing locally to thrive :

You need writers, literary agents, good editors and publishers and a reading public. When local works don't sell, publishers don't invest. After all, publishing is about ringgit and sen. About the bottom line. It's not about charity. Or, heaven forbid, the art of writing and the message delivered.

(I wrote on this here.)

He points to the fact that although he receives manuscripts, few of them are of publishable quality. Most local publishers want almost-ready-to-print scripts and just don't have the resources to work with a writer closely on rewriting, so that the authors themselves must learn to self-edit and/or employ the services of a freelance editor.

Raman talks about how :

There are thousands of stories that tell us who we are as Malaysians ... They need to be told. They need to be written. But we don't have enough writers. We don't have enough people writing. We need stories about ourselves. Our history.

and how his approach is not to find new writing but to nurture a group of writers and bring them up to publishable standard, as he did with the three authors of News from Home.

I must say that overall, I found the article more negative than it needed to be. There is plenty wrong, plenty that isn't happening yet, but I believe that things are improving, albeit slowly, and both Eric and Raman (among others) are playing a very necessary part in all that.

And despite what Raman says (I think he's unfairly dismissive) one of the biggest shots in the arm our local writing community has had is seeing other Malaysians doing so well on the international stage.

These authors too are major encouragers of local writers, sharing their thoughts about writing through articles for magazines and blog posts, and taking part in local writer events including Readings@Seksan. Perhaps the most important contribution they've made is to show Malaysian writers "Look this is possible" ... and of course they set the standard.

Nope, I won't be pessimistic yet.

KLAB Revisited

More commentary on the KL Alternative Bookfair, as Leon Wing shares his impressions in Starmag today. This I found perplexing:

Tokobuku’s Faisal was exhibiting his work as a step towards expanding his fotopages.com into a retail business. Underlining the fest’s alternative (almost anti-establishment) feel, some of the books he displayed had no ISBN number.

He explained: “For some writers, it’s a hassle to obtain the ISBN from the National Library, as they would have to reveal their identity – and that can be a risk for some of them.”

Really???

KLAB also gets Raman's seal of approval. I love what he says about the forum on book banning :

The debate went along pretty much predictable lines (we have all heard it before -- they went to the ministry, spoke to some furniture and came back disappointed, how dare that chair tell me what I should read!)

Talking of bookfairs, Popular Bookstore's BookFest@Malaysia 2008 begins on May 24th. A full programme of events is lined up featuring a whole lot of overseas authors (though sadly no-one who writes fiction) and local authors including Amir Muhammad, Zhang Su Li, Lim May Zhee and even Tun Dr Mahathir Mohamad.

You can also readcycle (Love it!) your old books.

Everything you might want to know about the fair and a whole lot more can be found here.

The slogan for this event is Reading Empowers, so at least here they got their grammar right (though sadly they have plenty of howlers in the descriptions of events).

The Wannabe Parent

When does an (outwardly) perfectly normal, peaceful-looking individual become a parent from hell?

Raman muses on the Silverfish website, before launching into yet another* wannabe horror story, this time about a parent who wants his daughter published ... even before she's written a word.

Then he said, "Unless you are deaf, dumb and blind, everyone knows how much money JK Rowling makes."

Oh God! Not another one!

"How many JK Rowlings, are there?"

"One." He looked puzzled.

"What is the population of the world?"

"I don't know ... several billions."

"So, the chances of your daughter becoming another JK Rowling is one in several billions. Now, if you go downstairs and buy a lottery, the chances of you winning the first prize is one in three million. Wouldn't that be much better?

Now I love it when people say they want to write and will do my best to encourage them, but expecting that you can become the next big thing without putting in the time and effort it takes to get there is totally unrealistic.

And it amazes me that many of the people I've met who say they want to write don't want to swallow the most basic piece of advice of all - if you want to write something worth publishing, you must read widely and hungrily. There is no shortcut. Sorry.

If you don't want to do this, take up quilting or grow bonsai trees or something like that. You'll probably be much happier.

(*A couple of my own are here and here.)

Good Things on Other Blogs

The latest literary gossip from local bloggers:

Is Kafka Austrian or Czech? Raman recounts a diplomatic tug of war and writes about Milan Kundera's new book The Curtain (which I was tempted to buy when I slipped into Silverfish yesterday ... such is the power of blog reviews.)

MPH Bookstores blog Redwhitespot has sadly gone under just as it was beginning to get interesting with some of May Lee's posts. I think the name had bad feng-shui and wanted to warn them, as it always made me think of a pimple. (So sorry!) May Lee and Rodney and the rest - if you feel the need for a space to blog, feel free to tumpang a space here.

Talking of MPH though, super-editor Eric Forbes has a nice post which talks about how book reviewers are developing in Malaysia - and I have to agree with him and he ties this to reviews of James Wood's essays which now I have to buy. (Expensive business, reading other book blogs.)

Eli James of Novelr wrestles valiantly with the question of purple prose.

I've not been very good at turning up for events organised by other people, much to my shame. I sincerely apologise to the folks who would like to have seen me there. I'm grateful to those who give me a vicarious glimpse of what went on, including Ted (left) who posted pictures of last months Katasuara at Raja Ahmad's gallery. Jordan Macvay (spelt right!) writes about being part of Bernice's Ceritaku storytelling event.

I've always has a great phobia of dentists, and when I can avoid 'em I do. Deepika had a very special "dentist" take a look at her teeth during a panel discussion which she was moderating at the Galle Literary festival in Sri Lanka: it was none other that Vikram Seth! (See photo right.) In his round up of festival events, Nury Vittachi tells the story :

At one point, he (Vikram) told an entertaining story about a relative who was a one-armed dentist. To illustrate the challenges involved, he put his arm around the head of moderator Deepika Shetty and duly inspected her back molars. ... What the author didn’t know – but many of the rest of us did – was that Singapore journalist Ms Shetty has just completed a lengthy dental treatment which involved carrying around a quarter of a ton of metal in her mouth for more than a year. Thus his good reports about her dentition carried great weight.

Postscript :

Oops. How did I forget to say welcome to the new Kakiseni blog?

Love the Book, Love the Author?

Have been pondering this aside in a post about the Singapore Writers Festival on Raman's blog some time back about not especially liking writers.

I know several writers who are now my friends, and they are wonderful people let me assure you. With some people you connect and become friends, with others you don't. When we communicate we communicate as friends, like normal people. Don't you want to know the person behind the book you enjoyed so much, someone asked? No, not really. Orhan Pamuk says that he prefers to read books by dead writers 'so there is no little cloud of jealousy to cloud my admiration'. In my case, I would say 'so there is no little cloud of reality to mitigate my enjoyment' of the writing. Good example, VS Naipaul: I know many who simply can't sit back and enjoy his prose because of all the other things (they think) they know about him. For me it is the song not the singer, all the time. I used to hugely admire Led Zeppelin when in college. There was a reunion concert recently and I would have liked to attend for it would have been interesting to hear what they sound like now after all these years. Would I also have liked to meet one of them personally after the show, if it was at all possible? Not really. I have organised two Literary Festivals for Malaysians to meet the writers. I got a huge buzz, both times, out of seeing people enjoying the events, mixing and mingling with the authors. But, in both cases, I was not particularly interested in meeting any of them besides doing the obligatory handshake routine. Does that make sense?)

Does it indeed make sense?

Me? I fall in love with authors all the time, when their words have moved and changed the way I see the world in some way.

I used to be so starstruck that at the first literary conference I ever attended, I got completely tongue-tied when talking to these folks who actually had *gasp* written novels. Isn't creativity the next thing to ... godlikeness?

Organising the first KL literary festival and dealing with all the practicalities and personalities cured me a little ... and also made me realise that the love you feel for the author of the book sometimes translates into real life as well. How could I not love Oscar Hijuelos playing piano for me (oh yeah, and one or two others) at Carcosa or Paul Bailey letting me into the lives of his characters in the Renaissance coffee shop? These were moments of special magic.

I've really relished the opportunities I've had to interview authors for Starmag. You can't, of course, afford to be overawed - there's a job to be done, information to be obtained, soundbites to be recorded. But in nearly all cases, those interviews have morphed into a really enjoyable conversation with someone who loves books and with whom I feel I have a lot of shared ground.
I still think I'd have had to be scraped of the ground if I had been in Silverfish the day that Peter Carey walked in. Vikram Seth is going to be at the Ubud festival this year, and it's going to take a lot of effort not to melt into a little puddle of admiration in the presence of someone who has given me so much I have loved.

Literature festivals of course, give you the opportunity to fall in love with authors before you read their books. I'm hook-line-and-sinker gone for Richard Flanagan and Patrick Gale, in that case, even before I pick up their books.

And the last Ubud festival gave me one of my most-magical meet-the-author moments ... wandering around Antonio Blanco's museum late at night with Tan Twan Eng and Kiran Desai. Yes, was on the far shores of groupiedom then and pinching myself. (Don't you just love the picture, on the right? I dwarf poor Kiran.)

Authors are just ordinary blokes, of course, of course. There's really nothing rarefied about them. (I was talking about this to Rob last night, and he directed me to this post on Susan Hill's blog about a woman who met J.K. Rowling and was disappointed at her ordinariness.)

But sometimes I have this strange and unsettling thought as I talk to them - that inside their heads (tardis-like) are these parallel universes and the characters I've loved going about their daily lives.

This is a long-winded way of returning to the question Raman asks - if you really love a book, do you want to meet the author?

My answer in every case, is that I do.

Lappers or Splashers?

Following the furor over Raman's decision to pull the plug on the Silverfish New Writing Series which he announced a week or two ago, he explains his decision:

When we published Silverfish New Writing 1 in 2001, we said that it would be fantastic if only one or two writers emerged from it. ('Writers' has become a sensitive word -- so henceforth we shall change that to 'authors'.) We reckoned that if we have about fifteen or twenty authors (what is the tipping point, anyway?) producing good stuff regularly, the whole industry would take on a much healthier glow and, perhaps, even attract international attention.

After seven years and seven books in the SNW series and two other anthologies, not one Malaysian 'lapper' has emerged. (Internationally, we only know of Gary Lamoshi, an American living in Hong Kong, whose novel-in-progress was featured in Collateral Damage, and whose full length novel, Hong Kong on Air, has just been published. We are not counting several others who were already published authors before they started sending their work in for SNW.) Yes, the New Writing series has touched many people in many ways and it has resulted in (if we allowed ourselves to be so immodest) a slight seismic shift in the local literary scene. However, no matter how precious we feel about it, it has not produced the desired result. The SNW series, instead of becoming a means, a stepping-stone leading towards an end, has become an end itself.

He's decided on a change of tack, nurturing up some promising voices from his writing class. The first collection of stories, News From Home, featuring three writers (Chua Kok Yee, Kow Shih-Li, Rumaizah Abu Bakar) is due out at the end of the month and will be very interesting to see.

Postscript:

A very poignant post by self-confessed splasher Deviant Urbanite:

I mean, it isn’t the New Yorker, but it was definitely thrilling to have been a part of it. I did send some of my stuff elsewhere too, but none of them were as inspiring or as relevant as Silverfish. Most of my stories (or story whims, more like) are set at home or have a Malaysian tone/context. It only made sense for them to be published back home where readers are better poised to appreciate or be impacted by them. And there’s a certain amount of pride associated with getting published in your homeland, too.

Wot? No More Silverfish New Writing?

Meanwhile, back in Malaysia for the moment, Raman announces in the same breath the list of stories that have made it into the Silverfish New Writing 7 (and big congrats to all, new names and familiar ones) and the imminent demise of the short story anthology:

By the way, this will be the last in the Silverfish New Writing series. We have decided to stop here. There will be no Silverfish New Writing 8, nor anymore after that in the foreseeable future. To all those who have contributed in the past, thank you for making the series an unqualified success.

Very very sad. These short story collections have been extremely valuable to local writers - and I'd include myself in that (and editing Collateral Damage was a tremendous experience). There are some really heartfelt comments on the post and I really sympathise.

As Deepika Shetty points out there's a funny kind of irony here. I was sitting with her on her veranda at the Honeymoon Guesthouse in Ubud a couple of mornings and we were talking about the series and how it had given so many writers - including myself - a start.

Sharanya Manivannan got her start as a published writer with a piece in the anthology I edited (though it would only have been a matter of time before she broke through somewhere).

And I was on cloud nine after going to Mohammad Cohens' book launch for Hong Kong on Air during the Ubud Festival (left): the first chapter had appeared as "an extract from a work in progress" and it was the first piece of fiction he had had published, a validation that he tells me he is still grateful for.

Repeat this story through the other collections - the grateful writers who got a break, who knew their work was worth something because the book itself was worth something; the unsuccessful writers who kept reaching higher because the collection set the bar, and perhaps after some time reaching it.

As Deepika says:

I'm sure the reasons for this are sound. Publishing isn't for the faint-hearted and Raman did open so many possibilities for aspiring authors, some of whom are now full-fledged novelists. And for that he deserves to be applauded. I do hope that someone will see the potential of such a publication and continue what he so bravely started.

I don't know the reason behind the decision but will have a chat to Raman and find out. And perhaps there is some way to keep this anthology going, or begin to something along the same lines. We need it.

Update:

Raman says the series hasn't achieved what he wanted it to achieve when he started the project. I didn't press further 'cos I didn't want to hear any more about how terribly disappointing Malaysian writers are. And anyway, I don't believe it.

Postscript:

Amir Muhammad's take on the matter. Amir was the editor for Silverfish New Writing 1. He describes the move to discontinue the series as:

... an impoverishing one ...

but reckons the series would have been much stronger if the focus had remained on Malaysian and Singaporean writers.

And yes, as Amir says, Raman has probably got the next plan for world literary domination up his sleeve!

Another Postscript

From another editor, Robert Raymer, on Raman's blog:

I do hope you reconsider. This series has been a great inspiration for a lot of writers. It's the carrot on a stick that I hold out for my creative writing students (this semester I'm even teaching a class for lecturers), that by completing their story and rewriting it later they have somewhere to sumbit it too, by March 31th. That deadline gets them going! Several of my students have in fact been published in the Silverfish Series (2 in SF6!). I know I have personally benefited, both in my stories being accepted (four including two in SF7!) and also as one of the editors (SF4) who has had the pleasure of discovering some talented writers (including at least two who have popped up in SF7!

Mr. Pringle Meets the Publishing Pirates

As I'm sure I've told you before, I'm a sucker for historical reprints of old books about life in Malaya. In these first hand accounts, I can easily slip back in time and take an enthralling journey through the country as it was long before I came here.

I've collected many of the books in the Oxford in Asia series (some of them received as payment for work done for the publisher - great trade off!) and am sad that the books are now discontinued.

Happy I was then to come across the Malaysian Heritage series of 12 classic books about the country in Kinokuniya the other day. Reader, I desired them.

True, they are nowhere near as aesthetically pleasing as the OUP books, which is something of a disappointment, but I care much more about the content.

Raman is also stocking the books and has featured them on his Silverfish website.

But it seems, the publisher, Synergy Press (a subsidiary of local publisher SA Majeed) may have been far less than scrupulous about obtaining permissions to republish the books.

One of the authors featured in the series, Robert Pringle, writes on Raman's website:

The publisher of the Malaysian Heritage Series did not get permission from anyone before reprinting my book, Rajahs and Rebels: The Ibans of Sarawak under Brooke Rule. This is unfortunate because I am in the process of arranging a legal reprint, with a Malaysian publisher, which will include a badly-needed new introduction commenting on the implications of this history in the light of what has happened since 1970, when it was published, and also correcting some errors in the first edition. That endeavor will obviously be complicated by the existence of this illegal edition which will inevitably reduce the prospect of further sales, even for a better product. No reputable bookstore should be selling this book. I cannot speak for other titles in the series.

Am wondering what laws in Malaysia cover copyright of books and what the author's legal rights are? I checked up on Wikipedia which told me that:

In most of the world the default length of copyright for many works is generally the life of the author plus either 50 or 70 years.

which would mean that this particular title was published illegally.

And that quite apart from the moral consideration: it's completely wrong not to ask for permission.

Mr. Pringle was hard to find? Nonsense, he responded within days to Raman's posting once his name was on the internet, and no doubt could have been reached through his publishers (this book was previously published by Cornell University Press and I believe the author's most recent book was published by Allen and Unwin.)

Rather, I think it's an extension I think of the let's-make-a-quick-buck-and-never-mind-the-rights-of-the-author syndrome.

Am looking forward to the opinions of the legal minds among my readers.

Raman, meanwhile, has withdrawn the book from sale and I hope that other bookshops have enough integrity to follow suit.

The Art of the Non-Review

Raman once again shares his thoughts on the state of local reviews and criticises local reviewers for cut and paste reviews (though with no specific examples to support his statements, unfortunately!).

I do agree with him about reviewers who regurgitate the story and offer no opinions. (One author recently told me that he was most upset that a local journalist had even posted spoilers in a review! That is a total no-no.) I also agree that local books should take priority.

The lack of reviews is not lack of other reviews to plagiarise (the cheek of it!), but as I've said before, the lack of space, advertising on book pages to pay for them, and a chronic lack of reviewers.

(The New Straits Times has no reviews at all. Rehman Rashid mentioned this last week at the MPH Hi-Tea for Authors, saying that they lost all their good people who could write about literature in a major shake-out some years ago, and since now they don't have writers of the right calibre anymore, it's better not to venture into reviewing at all. Frankly I think that's a cop-out. Newspapers have a social responsibility, reviewing books is part of that responsibility. Especially when they turn round and weep crocodile tears about how few Malaysians read.)

Raman also lays this interesting charge at the feet of reviewers - the fear of what will happen if they dare to be critical:

We are so afraid of hurting feelings that we have developed non-reviewing into an art form.

Perhaps it's also fear that the person who gets a bad review turning round and demanding an explanation from the newspaper. This happened to a friend of mine who dared to be critical in a recent theatre review. Why should reviewers ever be forced into the position of having to defend themselves? This is an unhealthy practice and editors need to nip it in the bud.

I would like to see more critical reviews, but are local authors ready to know what we think of their books?? I must confess I have a whole stack of books I haven't reviewed because if I were honest I'd be very critical, and might lose some friends.

Discreet silence might be better. But in the long run, surely it doesn't help.

By the way, I very much enjoyed this review today by Rabiatu Abubakar.

The Expat Malaysian Author

Silverfish's Raman sends his congrats to Tan Twan Eng but (typically!) uses his post to hit other local writers on the head.The question he raises though is interesting and very relevant:

While basking in the glow of vicarious glory, one cannot help but notice something: all these writers live outside the country. Why? Are Malaysians only able to get anything done when they leave the country? One can't help feeling that there are so many more successful Malaysians outside the country than inside.

... Is the lack of Malaysian writings the fault of our education system, then? Sure. Who hasn't heard of the many disturbing stories about our schools and the teachers? If it is, then how does one explain the writers mentioned above? Did they not attend the same local schools when they were here? Maybe they went overseas for their tertiary education, one might say. That could be it. But then how does that explain the 'failure' of those who come back from overseas after their education? No stimulus? No peers to push them on? It cannot be that we have no talent. The writers mentioned above were born here too.

So what's your take on this?

I'd say first, the situation is nowhere near as bleak as Raman makes out. There is some very good local writing talent, much of it young, and some very interesting work being produced ... as anyone who has been to the Seksan readings recently can tell you. (I can tell you of others who have done my course, and others whom I know through the blogs.)

What is lacking is the follow-through, the getting manuscripts actually finished and in marketable form and then out to publishers. (And here Raman is right, I think.)

Perhaps there is a crisis of faith too ... one that I hope the success of our local-authors-made-good-overseas can help to the writing community here to overcome, by example, and by involvement. (Kudos to Beth Yahp who comes back and runs courses, to Tash who took the trouble to run workshops at the litfest, to all those who share their knowledge and experience via blogs, published articles, and writer gatherings.)

So why do these award winning authors live outside the country? I posted a reply on Raman's blog and will expand on it a bit here. Here are some of the factors I can identify, although for most authors it will be a combination of things, of course:

Some go for education (boarding school, tertiary education) and stay on for the better job opportunities or because there feels like home in a way that Malaysian doesn't.

Some stay overseas for personal reasons. Love is the great kidnapper of Malaysian talent. And if you choose to marry, it's almost impossible to get a job for your spouse/partner in this country, let alone one that pays well.

Some go initially because of the availability of creative writing courses overseas and find themselves more recognised and encouraged as writers there. (There are a couple at UEA at the moment and one recently finished.)

Some go because ... and this is the controversial one that will have me clapped in irons ... Malaysia - let's face it - has a wonderful knack of stifling creativity.

In an environment where freedom of expression is seriously curtailed, where books and films are banned and restricted, where politicians take offense at satire, where Malay filmmakers and authors are harangued for letting the race down, where folks of different races do not feel they have an equal stake in the future of the country, where gays and lesbians face discrimination, where Malay women writers who dare write their mind have their websites hacked and receive death threats ... is it any wonder that authors look for a place where they can create without fear of censure? You see, everything is connected. One very prominent Malay writer told me that his most prized possession is his passport, and he's ready to leave if the current political and social environment becomes anymore restrictive.

Some become authors because they are overseas! Tan Twan Eng's The Gift of Rain for example, is redolent with nostalgia for the country he was missing so badly while he was in South Africa. (Would the book have come out as well if homesickness were not factored into the mix?)

These authors of course publish overseas because the local market isn't big enough, and local publishers have so far proved ineffective at getting the work of local authors onto a world market. They also know that they will not be able to have a shot at most of the world's literary awards unless they live or publish overseas.

One reason that Malaysian authors are doing so well on the world stage now is that readers in the West are discovering a hunger for fiction from the Far-East. Some Malaysian authors resident in the US fit very nicely into the Asian-American fiction niche market (e.g. Tinling Choong, Shirley Lim).

One wonders anyway ... would these authors have got published here and if they had, what would have been the fate of their work?

Raman's wrong about one thing. Although The Gift of Rain was written in South Africa Tan Twan Eng was living and working (and writing!) here until April (around the time of the litfest) and had even gone into Raman's shop on occasion as a customer. He will be back next month and also is one of the authors representing Malaysia in Ubud. He ain't as overseas as you might think he is!

And anyway, should we be as hung up on hereness and thereness as Raman appears to be? Let's celebrate all Malaysian authors regardless of language, race, religion, gender, sexual orientation, political stance, or place of abode. And see each other as part of the same encouraging writing community.

(Am very anxious to hear your thoughts, especially if you are one of the overseas published! Do drop Raman a comment too.)

Postscript:

Deepika has posted a very good piece on her blog about this issue, along with excepts from her Channel News Asia interview with Tan Twan Eng:

Just when you think the congratulatory messages should be pouring in, the insider-outsider debate is back. ... At the risk of detracting from this post, I'll add that this isn't something that's unique to Malaysian writing, take a look at Indian writing and you can count the outsiders who have made it big globally. Authors who have moved outside and decided to write about their home reality will always tell you about the pining for home, the sound of rain, the heat, the dust, the sights, smells, sounds - all of which turn into a heightened sense of reality when you are away from home.

Later she quotes Twan's thoughts on being away from Malaysia when he wrote the book:

I think (being in Penang) wouldn’t have helped. I felt the emotions were stronger while I was away. The sort of longing for something which is familiar when you are sitting out there. Outside its almost a desert landscape and there you are longing for a tropical rainstorm. In Penang, it’s almost like part of your being. You are in the landscape, life has a pattern, going to the beach, walking, eating. It’s the absence that drove the book – absence in a good way.

As I said, authors often write because they are away!

One Disaffected Bookseller

As promised. You can listen here to a BBC World Service special on the launch of Harry Potter 7, and a certain "disaffected" bookseller from Bangsar telling it as it is!

Rowling apparently has a great deal of gratitude for independent booksellers. What a pity the marketing behemoth now excludes the very people who stood by her books in the early days.

A Spectacular Bookstore Meltdown?

Raman writes about the effect of the "dumping" books during warehouse sales on the local bookstores. When he attended a meeting of book retailers in Singapore:

The consensus was that whatever is happening does not bode well for the industry. But it is the industry that is doing it to itself! They are all eating from the same bowl what? And the bowl is only so big (or small)... As described by one of the book dealers during the lunch, "Warehouse sales are like steroid injections." How true. They solve the short-term problem of cash flow ... but the long-term side effects are less predictable. He said, "They can net about 200,000 in a warehouse sale, which will take them three months to make at the shops." I cannot be certain about that, but warehouse sales are about cash flow, or the lack of it. Warehouse sales used to be held once or twice a year for getting rid of old stock, a reasonably healthy situation. "Raman, what do you want me to do with all that old stock?" one CEO of a major book-chain said. True. No one is arguing with that. What the industry is grumbling about is that there is one practically every month (or, according to some, more often even than that), with brand new books being offered at huge discounts as loss leaders to attract customers, and with remaindered books brought in pallet-loads from Singapore, Australia, the UK and the US (in a practice known as dumping which is, probably, illegal in those countries).

Now we all love our deliciously cheap infusions of books ... but in the long-term book lovers could be losers too if our local bookstores go to the wall.

Setting the Rushdie Straight

Camilla Gibb dropped me a line yesterday re. the quote about Rushdie which I had picked up from Raman's website. She is clearly upset that one small comment was taken out of context and somewhat sensationalised, and would like to set the record straight:

My goodness – the passion that my comment elicited on your site! I had no idea. I’m glad to see such passion alive in Malaysia, but I do have to say that not only was my comment a cheeky aside in the context of a talk about other, and I hope, much more important things, it was hardly original. To suggest that Rushdie’s career in some way benefited from the exposure of the fatwa against him has been said many times before. I do have problems with his work, but that is another issue and quite frankly, simply one woman’s opinion.

There's no doubt about it, Rushdie does elicit strong feelings, and no doubt we'll go on debating whether we love him or hate him, and whether he is a great writer or not. But then that's the fun of it.

Thanks for writing, Camilla, and I do hope that this puts things right!