by Gwee Li Sui
Literature in English
BY GWEE LI SUI
The modern, international use of the English language has ensured that the most widely recognised form of Singaporean literature is the one written in English. This familiarity comes at a disadvantage to the other forms of Singaporean writing in Chinese, Malay, and Tamil, especially given their greater need to get read outside their own ethnic communities. It also comes at a price to the development of English-language literature itself. More than the other forms, this literature has been caught up for decades in the complex issue of articulating its own legitimacy to readers around the world and even at home.
After all, despite having now the most vibrant domestic support, Singaporean literature in English remains the youngest of the four main traditions. Works in Chinese, Malay, and Tamil are at least tied to the thoughts and ways of distinct ethnic communities, where a relation between language and identity is straightforward. The tradition of English-language writing, however, draws directly from the history and literature of a colonial culture. What it inescapably highlights is the awkward legacy of Singapore’s British colonisation for nearly one and a half centuries and its impact.
It is thus expected that, for many years before and after Singapore’s independence in 1965, English-language writing would wrestle with this essential but mortifying connection. Some pioneer writers such as Edwin Thumboo had sought to assert both a mastery of the Western literary tradition as well as the right and ability to deviate from and even reject it. In this sense, the early anxieties of nationhood and literature in English were similar: both had tried to find their own voices in a terrain hitherto dominated by the same imperial power. The dynamics only grew more complex through the decades as writers used various ways to change the relation between the English language and the reality of being Singaporean.
Certainly, independent Singapore’s decision to embrace English as its “first language” of instruction has helped to raise the institutional status of its English-language literature. Poets such as Arthur Yap and Lee Tzu Pheng were hailed very early for their confident and sensitive use of English to express inner thoughts, criticise social realities, and show technical innovations. Their works rightly contributed to the needed grounding of the Singaporean voice in the language. In subsequent decades of nation-building, writers including Ho Minfong, Ovidia Yu, Simon Tay, and Philip Jeyaretnam extended this relationship by using English compellingly to render Asian or Singaporean entire physical and mental landscapes.
The good in such a development cannot be underestimated. One must realise that the dominance of English in Singapore was tied not just to its economic and diplomatic benefits but primarily to the shaping of a trans-ethnic collective identity. Given English’s rather ironic new status as a neutral language, it could appease a multicultural audience and, through this appeasement, generate a more multicultural form of literature. Indeed, English-language writers are most prone to making cross-cultural experimentations, with some drawing technically and emotionally from Singapore’s ethnic cultures. Others turn to a range of world cultures to enrich or transform their received sense of Englishness.
Playwrights such as Haresh Sharma, Chong Tze Chien, and Alfian Sa’at are examples of writers who can excite linguistic attachment through their engagements with social and ethnic issues. Meanwhile, poets such as Alvin Pang and Cyril Wong and fiction writers such as Tan Mei Ching take on their subject matters in ways that are turned to the hearts of a more international readership. The cultural rootlessness that English offers is such an enormous power for the creative mind; its downside, however, shows that this freedom can work against writers too. As free as writers can be with their influences and choice of primary audience, readers of English in Singapore are also free to turn to more popular and better marketed international writers.
A newer generation of writers including Natalie Hennedige, Troy Chin, and Bani Haykal has been reinventing the mediums of artistic expression themselves. These seek to find new literary audiences even as their abstract goal remains familiar: to subvert common expectations of what Singaporean literature is, and can only be, about. Indeed, most writers in English similarly fight against the Orientalist wishes of a global audience and the inverse Occidentalist wishes of a domestic one that may still assume that “West is best”. There is at least now a growing clarity that openness to cultural diversity and to the world is a hallmark of Singaporean English literature that makes it worth serious attention.
Literature in Chinese
BY TAN CHEE LAY
Following the trend of “nanyang-nisation” or localisation after World War II, Singapore’s separation from Malaysia in 1965 further spurred its literature in Chinese to find its own identity and to differentiate itself from Malaysian Chinese literature. With heightened nationalistic sentiments, more Chinese writers – including major writers such as Chew Kok Chang (penname Zhou Can), Wong Meng Voon, Wong Yoon Wah, Tan Swie Hian, and Yeng Pway Ngon – developed increased awareness of the local context. They experimented with new techniques influenced by the Modernist movement, which differed from the previously dominant Realist trend, and explored subject matters with a distinct Singaporean flavour. Later generations of writers – such as Xi Ni Er, Liang Wern Fook, Chua Chim Kang, Gabriel Wu Yeow Chong, and Tan Chee Lay – established themselves as writers in more than one genre. Educated or working in a bilingual system, they draw inspirations from varied sources, from Chinese classics, Taiwanese pop-song lyrics, and local English plays to Western postmodernist works.
Many pioneer writers also came together to form a great number of literary groups to advocate their literary philosophies through publications and activities such as talks, writing competitions, and workshops. The two most important writers’ groups that are still contributing to the literary scene today are the Singapore Association of Writers, which began in 1970 and is the largest of such groups, and the Singapore Literature Society, formed in 1980. Most literary activities since the 1980s have been organised by these two groups, and they contribute significantly to the overall health and vibrancy of the Chinese literary scene. Another prominent poetic group that emerged after independence 五月诗社 [The May Poetry Club], which is still functioning today, boasted prominent writers such as Lin Fang, Dan Ying, and Nan Zi. Often considered Modernists, they nonetheless draw inspiration from traditional art form and intercultural sources such as Chinese traditional poetry and the Malay four-line pantun.
After separation from Malaysia, publication avenues in then-familiar journals and newspapers were replaced with no fewer than fifty literary and comprehensive journals as well as numerous literary supplements in the various Chinese dailies. Supplements such as 青年文艺 [Arts of the Youth] of 南洋商報 [Nanyang Siang Pau] served as places where promising young writers were discovered by editors and their works first noticed. The quantity of published literary collections impressively exceeded three hundred books in the first ten years of independence alone. Although Chinese readership and print runs have since dwindled with English becoming the dominant family language among Singaporean Chinese, writers continue to publish with dedicated passion and with generous grants from the National Arts Council, whose support has improved steadily over the years.
In terms of genre, the post-independence period saw essays or prose achieving the largest share of the market. The themes and techniques of the essay – an important form in the Chinese language but not necessarily in the other languages of Singapore – grew in variety and creativity. With changes in publication avenues, novels and longer stories gave way to shorter articles that included poems, short stories, and even micro-novels, which were no longer than two thousand words. In the twenty-first century, many Singaporean writers turn to writing flash novels, which are as short as one hundred and fifty words and complement the rapid pace of our fast-evolving society. However, literary criticism, which is important in the recognition and promotion of fine literature, continues to be hard to come by.
Singaporean Chinese literature has come a long way with multiple ups and downs since independence. Fascinatingly, the Chinese literary scene has experienced a revival after 2010s, with more active leadership and promotion by the National Arts Council, the Singapore Writers Festival, the National Library Board, the Committee for the Promotion of Chinese Language and Literature, individual literary groups, and new and easily available online publication channels. Furthermore, new immigrant writers from China and Malaysia have been participating actively in local literary activities. Many experienced writers, too, have come out of their long hiatuses and begun publishing and attending book launches, symposiums, and talks that occur almost weekly, a sign that may prompt us to be cautiously optimistic about our literary future.
Literature in Malay
BY SA’EDA BTE BUANG
From the early nineteenth century to the mid twentieth century, Singapore was the centre of Malay print culture, literary activities, and intellectualism. Due to the socio-historical links and close proximity between Singapore and Malaysia, the development of Malay literature in Singapore has always been connected with the growth of its counterpart in Malaysia in intimate ways.
However, when Malaysia, then Malaya, achieved its independence from the United Kingdom in 1957, Singapore slowly receded in its importance as a Malay literary hub because of the exodus of writers. Except for a handful like Masuri S. N., Muhammad Ariff Ahmad, and Mahmud Ahmad, many literary pioneers of Singapore and ASAS ’50 (Angkatan Sasterawan ’50 or Writers Movement of the Fifties) as well as literary-cultural activists left for Malaysia. This was also when most prominent dailies and publishing houses moved to Johor Bahru and then to Kuala Lumpur, the capital city of the newly formed Malaysia. The Malay literary scene in Singapore was adversely affected. An important point to note is that ASAS ’50 was formed in Singapore on 6 August 1950 by writers who aimed to champion civil rights, promote the spirit of inquiry, and work towards Singapore’s and Malaya’s independence through literary work.
Singapore’s own independence in 1965 – which it achieved after leaving the Federation of Malaya it joined two years before – spelt a bleak future for the Malay community in Singapore. The community was shaken by the realisation that it no longer formed a majority. The city-state’s focus on industrialisation and urbanisation as a strategy for the economic survival of the newly independent country added another form of psychological pressure on the Malay community. It had to front new socio-economic and educational issues with new lenses of meritocracy and pragmatism.
Another major blow soon came when the Malay community witnessed the closure of Malay schools and the waning of the Malay language as a dominant language of instruction and Malay literature in the middle of the 1980s. The community, particularly those who had undergone Malay education, felt alienated and pessimistic about their future in the young industrialised country which chose to emphasise the English language as a means of modernisation. Such emotional turmoil is captured best for the community’s cultural memory by two of our Cultural Medallion recipients in their novels, namely Mohamed Latiff Mohamed in Batas Langit [Confrontation] and Isa Kamari in Satu Bumi [One Earth]. Mohamed Latiff’s agony over the issue of socio-historical displacement continues to consume him and is discernable in his poem “Di Bawah Bayangmu” [“Beneath your Shadow”] in Singathology.
Realising that the destiny and future of Malay literature in Singapore laid henceforth in their own hands, Singaporean Malay writers initiated numerous literary clubs, activities, and programmes to ensure that the literary scene stayed vibrant and healthy. After five decades, despite many challenges, the Malay literary scene is still witnessing active participation from generations of writers, including pioneer writers such as Suratman Markasan, the Malay-educated generation in the likes of Mohamed Latiff, and the English-educated ones such as Nadiputra, Isa Kamari, and Aidli Mosbit. These are some of the finest Malay writers in Singapore whose work and contributions have been recognised at both national and international levels.
One common characteristic of these writers is that, despite living urban lives, they do not stray from their moral bearings. The fact is clearly reflected in their work in this anthology. Each writer nonetheless has his or her own narrative focuses. While Mohamed Latiff laments the loss of personal and historical memories due to the brunt of urbanisation which had alienated the Malays, Isa confronts the issue of misplaced identity in the face of modernity and Nadiputra puts the issue of national loyalty under a microscope. Suratman argues for the essence of a good Muslim, and, finally, Aidli highlights the aged and one of their challenges, Alzheimer’s Disease. This tapestry of themes demonstrates not only the writers’ keen observation of human toils and desperation but also their hopes and optimism in the life and future of humanity.
Literature in Tamil
BY AZHAGIYA PANDIYAN
Singaporean and Malaysian Tamil literature share one man, S. N. Sadhasiva Pandithar, as their founding writer, some scholars claim. His four works – வண்ணை அந்தாதி [Vannai Treatise], வண்ணை நகரூஞ்சல் [Vannai City Swing], சிங்கை நகர் அந்தாதி [Singapore Treatise], and சித்திரக் கவிகள் [Fancy Poets] – can be traced back to the 1850s.
Another significant work is Rangasamy Dhasan’s அதி விநோத குதிரை பண்டைய லாவணி [Weird Horse Race Song] from 1893. This is a travelogue explaining the journey of a couple from the Tanjore region to Singapore with the objective of viewing a horse race. The work involves a description of Old Singapore, its important roads and buildings, and its society and entertainment of that age.
Fast forward to the 1960s. K. Sarangabani, affectionately dubbed Thamizhavel, which means “ruler of the Tamil language”, understood the need for literary rejuvenation and contributed immensely to the development of Singaporean Tamil literature. More than any other individual, he strove to establish an identity for Tamil literature in Singapore and also for Tamils as a whole.
He launched Tamil Murasu, Singapore’s only Tamil daily. This daily has created a space and an outlet for writers to showcase their talents. It runs literary competitions that actively nurture budding literary talents. Tamil Murasu is influential in helping various individuals to write short stories and poems, thereby serving to generate a distinct identity for Singaporean Tamil writing.
Broadcasting stations, too, have helped to nurture Singaporean Tamil literature. Radio Singapore’s Tamil Programme Unit played a dominant role in the development of Tamil literature by airing locally written poems, short stories, and drama.
In this literary anthology, the works of five notable Singaporean Tamil authors – namely J. M. Sali, K. T. M. Iqbal, M. Balakrishnan (or Ma Elangkannan), P. Krishnan, and Rama Kannabiran – are included. Each a Cultural Medallion recipient, they represent the rich Tamil literary tradition of Singapore.
Even though Singapore’s Tamil literary scene has produced many quality works, numerous precious Tamil publications have already gone missing from the public domain for a number of reasons. These reasons include the death of an author and the failure to deposit copies of books in the National Library.
In 2013, a small group of concerned citizens therefore got together to address the problem. The team realised that the best way forward was to digitise existing books so that they could be available to not only local readers but also interested readers around the world.
Thus was born the idea of Tamil Digital Heritage – a project to help digitise all Singapore-related Tamil literary publications over the last fifty years. Why fifty years? That magical number was chosen to commemorate Singapore’s fiftieth birthday. Approximately three hundred and fifty Tamil books in the National Library Board collection, published from the year 1965 when Singapore gained independence, have now been digitised.
The digital collection was presented as the Singaporean Tamil community’s gift to the nation on 22 August 2015
. This is one of the most significant developments in the history of Tamil literature here. As it is the first time such a concerted effort at digitising a national collection has been made in Tamil anywhere, Singapore is now a trailblazer through this initiative.
While the current anthology features the works of distinguished Tamil writers, the community itself cannot escape a sobering truth: we are producing very few young Singaporean Tamil writers to carry the torch forward into the future. This has happened in spite of Singapore possessing arguably the best Tamil education system in the world.
It has thus been a joy that I was asked recently to write a foreword for educationist T. Durairajoo’s Tamil poetry book கலாசார மரபணுக்கள் [Cultural DNAs]. Even though Durairajoo’s formal education in Tamil stopped after his A-Levels, yet he has chosen to write this book at the age of forty-six for one reason only: his passion for the language.
While celebrating Singapore’s fifty years of independence, I ponder about the next fifty years for Singaporean Tamil literature. My sincere and fervent wish is that we may see more Durairajoos in the years to come.
About this Volume: Life
BY GWEE LI SUI
A permeable membrane exists between every individual and his or her society. As much as large socio-historical forces affect his or her freely made decisions, he or she also plays a central and yet often undervalued role in the development of externalities. The narrative of this volume can thus be summed up in terms of a recognition of a complex interplay between strong currents of social history and the choices and actions made in private.
The twenty-five works featured here document accounts of cross-influence where the voice of an individual and the character of a country are inflected in each other. You may find behind the distinct personalities of some pieces a dynamic but not always conscious engagement with social norms while, in others, the real world comes to the fore as what evolves through little human decisions. I have arranged these writings as elegantly as I can to manifest a flow from the grand, remote past to an ordinary present with its myriad, difficult tonalities.