These thoughts were finally posted from Tanzania, East Africa.
I fly out from Malaysia tomorrow after a fortnight here. Armed with the usual dutiful delay, I haven't yet packed.
Still, in the midst of an eleventh hour rush, I feel gladdened, to have effortlessly devoured a stylishly produced 149-page local paperback, from MPH Group Publishing, Petaling Jaya, Malaysia, called Clutch, Brake, Sellerator And Other Stories.
Two joint Malaysian winners, together with four other shortlisted short story writers - both established and promising - make for a complete collection of half a dozen riveting, seductive tales, initially submitted, for the recent MPH-Alliance Bank National Short Story Prize for 2009.
In passing, may I add a glorious tip for international travellers. That this chic little number of easy short stories, creates a tempting airport read, in the event that while rested back on your aeroplane seat and impressed either with Kuala Lumpur or the delicious trappings of the airport; that you may stay equally eager for a touch of calm, colour and a slight drop of Malaysian flavour, thrown in its middle.
The MPH Bookstores at the Satellite Building of the Kuala Lumpur International Airport, nestled close to the departure/boarding gates and attractive cafes like Coffee Bean, features downtown prizes for many of its alluring titles. I'd put the bookshop down to one of the more highly recommended ones, I would happily offer, without hesitation. This, after a thoughtful perusal, for a well-stocked eclectic collection.
Other personal favourites for a happy browse, would probably be the bookstores at London's Heathrow and Dubai's new International Terminals. Plus, at RM21.90 (estimated 3.80 euros/US$7), you must admit the nifty book, to be a pretty handy price.
The paperback opens with a brief Publisher's Note, capsuling in a few lines, the gist of each writer's story. It concludes with a paragraph of gratitude and thanks, aimed at both participants and judges. In the next accompanying section, the writers themselves, take turns to drum up their necessary tiny slice of instrospection. This, on what projected the muse. In this aspect, I found Lee Eeleen, to be the most conscientious and fastidious of the six. Her thoughts revolved around the exacting measure and eventual dogged resolution for suspense, in The Englishman at Table 19.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that a few of the stories were brilliant, if not highly promising, in that hopeful enriching way. For instance, I would love to get my hands on a copy of each and every one of these writer's books, when they're eventually published.
Still, with frank candour, I experienced two major problems, as a reader. One being that perhaps a few of the writers were overly-ambitious in parts that hastened to kill the attention span or even worse, memorability. Quite a few of the themes although hardworking, offered predictable conclusions, with hardly a challenge to the intellect.
The other nagging rejoinder, was that the stories sorely lacked in skilled editing techniques. The right spark of literary talent needs its appropriate justice.
After all, doesn't a well-laid out salad appear mouthwatering with a fair dollop of tasty dressing? What a true winner the slick, sophisticated moves of a savvy editor's pen could have churned out and not - if they were edited at all, I'm not sure about this naturally - just the basic gathering of sentences, to make for passable structures and a general acceptance. In this respect, I feel at least some empathy for the industrious writers concerned. It's not their fault.
Briefly in passing....
Some Things Will Remain didn't quite cut it for me, although I have a high regard for Tan Twan Eng who wrote the excellent international bestseller, The Gift of Rain, which later earned him the longlist nomination for the Man Booker Prize 2009.
There's no doubt that his 'writerly' presence would definitely have commanded the necessary oomph to the collection.
In his winning story, Tan uses his fascination for old, abandoned mining pools in which to explain the fate of an emotionally abused woman. The narrator cum disillushioned-wife-but- loving-mother, must mastermind her rural setting, while employing only the psychological tools of her ferocious maternal love; in which to save her child, Siau Jian, from leaving her side forever.
Spoken in the first person, the protagonist employs exposition scenes, related to a forgotten time.
Even as she currently observes her successful daughter's merry wedding plans, she laments over long-ago hardships; what with a vagabond husband Ah Teck who cheerfully beats and abandons her; only to repeat the cycle with hateful clarity, every few months. Now, she doesn't mind the beatings at all but all hell breaks loose when he turns up with a pretty, young mistress Ren Mei, whom the narrator also discovers to be sly. ("I realised that Ren Mei had been going through my cupboards, even through the drawer where I kept my underwear." - Some Things Will Remain )
Through Tan's avid descriptive meanderings, it is clear that the flower seller in the busy market, has suffered a hard life. In a nutshell, she has had to cope with a beloved baby while her vagabond husband Ah Teck gets up to all sorts. One day, all hell breaks loose when Ah Teck and Ren Mei make silent plans to take baby Jian with them. The narrator may have held a previous talent for tolerance, but not anymore.
A curious set of events unfold that lead to a dark suspenseful drama in the derth of the mining pool, where all characters are suddenly immersed in their personal warfare. Even the baby looks scared.
Basically, this stays the highest point of conflict to the story. If as a reader you've perused similar themes before, than expect to have guessed the conclusion early on and forget about the possible crawl of shivers! With the plot per say, you could presume it to be one of a dangerous secret or of skeletons in a closet; lost bones who must worship their eternally locked door.
I particularly enjoyed the narration to a high conflict and the sharp riveting lines, that at least occured during the point of high drama. Without giving too much away, I liked the idea of what some strong imagery provoked...that of lotuses, jade pendants, incense offerings, trishaw-pullers and temples nestled in limestone hills.
The careful sketching of an everyday Chinese culture in a small town was keenly portrayed but not emotionally felt or poignantly reflected upon. This lies simply as a matter of preference; the way in which the writer chose to compose his tale. In this short story, Tan's passion lay in loosely-sketched details over finer elegant points, with which to broach atmosphere. That's grand.
I found though that the story needed to be edited. I wonder that no one thought of this. Many sentences were unbearably lengthy, stuffing several thought patterns into a single line, at one go. This risked killing off concentration while other scattered words proved redundant.
Now, it doesn't matter if the writer is able to get away with it. Not good at all, if an unsuspecting reader starts to notice the odd mishap. And then two and then three.
For eg, "When Jian had been a baby, there had been a period of months when she had slept badly,
A more polished version would read "When Jian had been a baby, there had been months, when she had slept badly... ...or..."there had been a season, when she had slept badly,..."
Also, "She rocked her body back and forth, back and forth..." The word Rocked used the first time, already paints a series of a character's continued movement, for the reader. The second repetition serves no purpose. If it's meant to offer a rhythm, that simply doesn't come across for me.
"When I saw Ren Mei gathering their meagre belongings together one night before she went to bed, I knew...." is also straggly. "When I saw Ren Mei gathering their meagre belongings, one night before bed, reads as a tighter cleaner version. Gather...already means 'coming together'
The word 'together' is in this case, redundant. 'Before bed' instead of 'before she went to bed' is tighter and tells the reader, the exact same thing.
A couple of other swift examples among the peppering of others:
"How could I, a woman with only four years of schooling have this beautiful intelligent girl as my daughter? This girl who... - Some Things Will Remain
An edited version would read... "How could I, a woman with only four years of schooling have this beautiful, intelligent daughter?" There is no need for repetition of a gender, especially that the word 'girl' is to be once more mentioned in the following line and that the gender had already been established for the reader, much earlier, in the story.
Another example:
"There was more than enough time to return home and prepare myself for the wedding at the church in town." - Some Things Will Remain
An edited version would read, There was more than enough time to return home and prepare for the wedding at the town church.
As a result, I found the narrator's voice cumbersome, in parts. Tan seems unsure. Is she a simple Chinese woman, reciting a rambling monologue that would be better suited to a play? Is she incapable of smarter vocabulary? It looks like she is. So why then sudden words that jut out for eg. 'darting' or 'bobbing' that seem so British in retrospect and clumsily laid against alignment to the present voice?
The snakish past continuous sentences could so easily have found a kinder symphony, with a swift embrace of the crisper past tense. Especially more so that this dark drama relies on a reader's devoted attention. Active lines are always preferred to passive ones. The plot dragged and I eventually lost interest.
Also, the conclusion was lukewarm. I think simply put, this story works a lot better, orally. On top of it, I suspected a slight complacency, especially that Tan is a world-class writer.
The trouble is, Some Things Will Remain reminded me of the dozens of similar comprehension stories that I had already tackled years ago, in early secondary school. The story was too simply told...the Malaysian reader's intellect underestimated in this case. I would have preferred an intelligent original narration, complete with gripping twists. As it stands, the absence of skilled editing techniques, appeared like a missing bandage for a longing wound.
I enjoyed another joint winner, Clutch, Brake, Sellerator, tremendously until the later part of the story. The ending was so far-fetched that I felt the story succeeded in disqualifying itself, in a strange, bizarre way. Two highly disjointed ends appeared to glue themselves into an awkward whole.
Ivan Yeo possesses a gift for rib-tickling comedy. Many of life's ironies are brilliantly wound into a character's attempt to learn to drive a car. He is also interested in a girl and suffers the usual teenage angst with his parents. Yeo throws in a large slice of Malaysian reality, together with witty sarcasm. He handles comical everyday conversations, traditions, habits and dialects with absolute finesse. I adore his caustic wit that also appears vulnerable in parts. However, the end confesses its erratic moments to a sudden, dark side.
I don't think that Yeo warns his readers adequately enough, of what comes, although he attempts a somewhat hesitant start. Still, an early introspection doesn't do more than just scratch the surface of a story. The conclusion of what transpires, after a character meets with an accident is so unreal, that it sits terribly at odds, with how Yeo had first begun his story. As fantasy or an art form, the end seems perfect. The trouble is, this is not fantasy.
However, it appears to me, the trusting reader, that Yeo was drumming up Malaysian reality using tongue-in-cheek episodes. All of his sketched events appear real, as what one would easily recognise when in any Malaysian town. But the conclusion doesn't seem real at all. The conclusion appears fantastical. There is no harmony in Leo's attempt at a sudden disconnection. In fact, it is one of the rare times that I've come across, when a character abandons the plot, or rather, disconnects himself from it.
I think wthith further practice, Yeo could become skilled at harmonizing experimentation with both wisecracks and tragedy.
One legendary short story writer who masterminded this subtly grotesque affair with his character was Hanif Kureishi in The Body And Seven Stories (2002, UK). The Body was a novella in which a middle-aged playwright, Adam, traded in his flabby body for a renewed handsomeness, charisma and sexiness provided by a mannequined model, stored by scientists. The peculiar exchange turns horrifying when at the end of a trial six-month period, Adam who misses his old life, cannot return to his original body. Straightaway, there is a monumental sense of disconnectio The difference here is that Adam stayed loyal to his disengagement, all along.
In a different way, Yeo talks about a similar discontinuity in this case. The portrayal dwells on circumstance and a sense of place rather than the notion of choice and a sense of time. Perhaps, Perhaps, The Body will lend forth some useful techniques that Yeo could employ for the experimentation of future stories.
I will skip Shih-Li-Kow's Pilling Time. I much preferred her older collection of short stories, called Ripples. The theme of this one, probably appeals more to science fiction fans. Any lover of fantasy is bound to like it. It holds a high cleverness.
However, it seems out of sync with the rest of the tales. There is an absence of authenticity. Li-Kow uses a conservative style and form which I recognize, as commonplace of contemporary British fiction writers - especially women's fiction in the 1970s and 1980s. There is no question that Li-Kow offers excellence, but I have read hundreds of novels employing this form by older British writers, in the past. If I want to return to the form, I prefer to return to the expertise of the veteran British novelist, who stays established and at home, with this particular format.
I loved Vincent Foo's The Cobra's Mate. I thought this to be the most deft story of all. Foo takes us back to the jungles and the tribes, where warriors had to prove their prowess to win the damsel of their dreams and where dire subjects like heroism and death mattered, no matter the cost. It is a true literary tale. Each personal introspection of our humble hero, Angking, guides us with daring suspensful leaps, to the next urgent level of the story. Through a series of earlier annoyances and quarrels, Angking must now fight the evil Banang. One will surely die at an appointed time and place in the forest, but who. Appointing a nimble mastery at storytelling, Foo uses a cobra's revenge as catalyst to manouvere cliff-hangers, apprehension, tension and a series of thrills, spills and chills, all at one go. The plot never falters...the drama never wavers. I read the whole story in a few minutes... Foo is a careful, thoughtful storyteller. With each word, he works at conflicts not just to heighten excitement or deal with menace in an appropriate moral context, but also to create a unique aesthetic artistry. Hence, The Cobra's Mate isn't just an alarming tale but also a highly beautiful one... no more and no less.
Lee Eeleen writes of The Englishman at Table 19. A family goes on holiday and the character Lauren - I presume is very young - writes of a mysterious Englishman she sees vaguely, now and then at shady moments in a hotel. The plot is spent on Lauren trying to figure out who this ancient if not enigmatic looking Englishman could possibly be.
I thought it to be highly inventive and wise, the way Eeleen dropped a chunk of Malaysian history, straight into the modernities of everyday life and this, purported to Sir Gerald Templer, the British High Commissioner of Malaya in the 1950s. Being the conscientious writer that Eeleen is, she takes pains to describe trivialities; for instance, the diplomat's pencil moustache and khaki drill bush jacket, posing against the backdrop of the Malayan jungle. 
Very quickly, the reader receives the impression that Eeleen loves her British mysteries. I am no different. The UK channel's detective shows stay my favourite and especially its, Alibi screenings, all of which show in Ireland. Naturally, I was quick to guess the end within the first three pages.
The story also reminds me of Wena Poon's alluring fictitious tale of a mysterious gentleman who showed up at the Ubud Writer's Festival. I gather the impression that while Eeleen holds fabulous promise and her writing will someday, definitely work its way to sophistication, she needs to expand her horizons and live out life's experiences a little so that her stories may reflect colour, a vital complexity and depth. My heart pained in a way, for the writer who trebled the innocent workings of her heart to describe a mystery, for which I already guessed its end, by page 4.
I think that Eeleen should set herself tougher challenges and not settle for forseeable themes and conclusions; and especially that she is capable of absolute competence.
As it is, The Englishman at Table 19, would be more effective as a young adult story. Currently, Eeleen would be able to churn out adolescent stories beautifully, there's no denying that. It really depends who the target audience is. I believe this story is set for a younger audience. If Eeleen intends to aim at a sophisticated audience, than she needs to orchestrate multi-layered conflicts seriously fashioned to keep a reader guessing and this accompanied in turn by multi-dimensional characters.
I thought that a haunting folklore, The Hunter and The Tigress by Zed Adam Idris, also deserved to be a winning story. Idris went to town with the subject of ugliness...both for his flawed and eccentric characters and of ghosts. His story of a man lured by a tiger's bewitching spell, was wholly absorbing and fascinating. Idris' raconteur talents commands a magnetic pull for readers and holds the plot's dynamism from beginning to end. Idris' strength lies in the composition of tensed present-day scenes and as to the question of what actually constitutes, a story form, may be slightly weaker in his attempts at poetic reflection. Still, his myth is seductive and adventurous in that fascinating, peculiar way.
Title: Leaving The Heart Behind Author: Joan Foo Mahony. ISBN: 9789670138008, Format: Paperback, Released: 1st October 2010, Publisher: JF Publishing Sdn. Bhd. Price: Ringgit Malaysia RM59.90.
