Waiting for Utopia

And now for something completely different. (Apologies, Monty Python.) The last time there was so much excitement over the launch of an operating system for a microcomputer -- that's what they used to be called before IBM started using the term Personal Computer, or PC, that soon came into general use -- was during the release of Windows 3.0 in 1990 (generally considered a ripped-off version of the Macintosh operating system, although the latter lost the resulting court cases). Reading the write-ups about the soon-to-be-released (though not for another year) Google Chrome OS, one could be forgiven for thinking that this is going to be the next coming of a messiah.

The main reason Chrome OS has generated so much excitement is because, one thinks, it is coming from Google -- a company that seemingly makes no mistakes. (There are those who, despite all its success, still dismiss Google as a one-trick pony, but that is another story -- or is it actually part of this one?) It is also believed by many that Google is the only company on the planet that can teach the evil Microsoft empire a lesson, and to give them a good whupping! Apple appears to be quite content to control the BMW corner of the computer market. Linux is still considered very much a geek's tool, although its actual penetration is quite amazing and most computer users interacted with it on a daily basis without realising it -- online shopping, forums, web surfing, office backend systems and so on.

But that is not the sort of anonymity Google seeks. They want to change the world. They want to do what Apple did in 1984 with its "Big Brother" commercial (directed by Ridley Scott): shatter the old world order. Big Brother at that time was IBM and the screening of that ad (more than even the Macintosh itself) is now considered a watershed event in the history of the microcomputer. (I have seen it several times, and even now it gives me goose flesh -- you can still watch it on Youtube.) The euphoria that surrounded Microsoft when it launched Windows in 1990, was more a collective sigh of relief at being released from its own DOS operating system rather than the slaying of a monster dragon. (Macintosh' computers were way too expensive then, costing an equivalent of a present-day space tourism flight -- relatively.)

The Google PC operating system is open source, meaning it will be available free of charge. Application programmes (also generally free but supported by ads) will be available in the cloud, as will storage. So computers will come in entirely "potong" modes! No hard disc, no CD-Roms, and definitely no floppies. Completely wireless. No native software, only the web. Sounds too good to be true?

But some, like Wired.com are wondering if Google should not be showing some humility instead of crowing like they are. But crowing is very much a part of their DNA (and in the DNA of most computer companies where the hyperbole rules, with the possible exception of Linux), and the louder you crow the more famous you are. (See how Amazon crowed itself to profit.) Google says that they are initially targeting lightweight Netbooks, which will come preinstalled with the operating system.

It is an idealistic vision; a future where only the web exists, and computers become cheap throwaway machines, but many say it is realistically several years away. Initially, it will be a toy. (But then, so are most computers now!) The first concern most people will raise would be software, but Google says there are web alternatives for everything. Really? For my Illustrator, my Photoshop?

Google wants us to give up the computing environment we are used to, as we know it and leave everything on the web. Everything? Including that novel you are writing? That would take a serious paradigm shift, indeed! Unfortunately, my personal concerns are more mundane. I am a creature who likes to own things. Okay, I am a greedy materialist. I like to hoard stuff. If it is on my computer, I own it. Steve Jobs knew that when he introduced the wildly popular iTunes and iPod, and he has been proven right; most people like to own their music, not rent them. No one has managed to come up with a successful music rental model yet. But then, there is the radio. How do we explain that? Don't we mostly listen to it when we are not paying attention? But it is free. Free! That word again.

Times are a-changing, and it is getting interestinger and interestinger, and scarier. But for now I'll stick to my trusty MacBook, and perhaps install Chrome on Parallels, or Boot Camp partition to play around with it a bit. I don't think I am quite ready for Utopia yet. It's scary.

Missing ingredient in Malaysia: culture

I do like to see what Dato' Johan Jaafar has to say every Saturday in the NST, especially about literature, though I do not necessarily agree with everything he says. In a recent column entitled Literature may be missing ingredient in our lives, he suggests that, perhaps, this is the fundamental difference between Malaysia and Indonesia: that they take their culture seriously, while we don't. He was referring to the brouhaha about the use of ketoprak and tarian pendet to promote local tourism, and the furore over our alleged propensity to menklaim Rasa Sayang and Suliram as our own. (He was writing in reference to the Deputy Higher Education Minister Datuk Saifuddin Abdullah's suggestion that 'science stream and engineering students' should be offered literature as part of their curriculum).

So, are we finally ready for some sort of intellectual debate then?

Culture is sancrosanct

He says: "... to the Indonesians, culture is sacrosanct.

"We erroneously believe that the ones protesting are in the minority ... (but almost) every scholar, artist and journalist in Indonesia is adamant that Malaysia has no right ...

"... they (the scholars) all agree, carrying bamboo spears and 'hunting' for Malaysians in the markets ... and ... carrying banners to ganyang (crush) Malaysia do not represent the majority.

"But the argument that Malaysians menklaim their culture is more than just about national pride. It is about sending the message that they take their culture seriously."

Absoutely. We certainly do not take our culture seriously. How long will us take to understand that tourism promotion dances are tourism promotion dances, not culture? There are others who can make a much better case for makyong, menora, wayang kulit or even bangsawan, for that matter, than I can, so I shall confine my comments to literature.

Cultural identity

Dato' Johan continues: "We were 'brought up' in a different manner, if you like. The Indonesians developed a strong cultural identity ... They believe in 'oneness' ... and the articulation of a single bangsa -- Bangsa Indonesia.

"... Our priorities are different. We believe in diversity, in fact the mantra 'strength in diversity' has put us in positions of difficulty at times."

Really? Haven't we heard this enough times? Was it 'strength in diversity" that put us in difficulty, or was that due to something else altogether? Granted diversity is our strength, but what have we used that strength all these decades for, apart from making us an economic powerhouse, and a nation with an unhealthily high corruption index?


The baby is dead

For decades we were told that only one form of writing was acceptable, with war cries of nationhood built into it. Anything not written in bahasa could not be considered as our writing, we were told. But what has happened to literature in bahasa? I remember how it used to flourish in the seventies and the eighties. Congratulations to Dr Anwar Ridhwan for being made a National Laureate this year. The last person to receive the award before him was S Othman Kelantan in 2001. Is it fair to assume that no one else deserved it in the eight-year period in between? Surely, the good Dato' can see the sad state bahasa literature is currently in. Imagine this. A baby has been put in the charge of a minder. The baby dies (from neglect or abuse, no one knows). But, the minder not only continues to coo and dandle the swaddled bundle, but still celebrates birthdays and anniversaries with extravagant public displays, like everything is hunky dory. Is anyone fooled? Aren't there enough people saying that the emperor has no clothes?

Fortunately, there is still a lot of writing in bahasa out there, though much of it would not be classified as literature. Not yet, anyway. I have seen a lot of passion, wit and vitality in them, and the last thing they need is to be swaddled and smothered. They need to grow. They need to be allowed to grow. They are produced mainly by fringe groups now, and are a little uneven, works in progress, but they may be the only hope for the future of writing in bahasa in this country. Anyone who has read Kasut Biru Rubina will tell you that it is so. And, believe you me; they shun the institutions like poison.

Fostering book mindedness

India too has a national book institution: The National Book Trust of India (NBT) was set by their first prime minister, Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru, in 1957. From the website:

"Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru believed that India could develop as a democratic self-reliant and forward-looking society only in an environment of intellectual stimulation. In this context, he felt that effective measures should be taken to foster book mindedness amongst people of different ages and walks of life.

"The National Book Trust was never visualised as just another publishing house, competing with other Indian publishers.... (but) as a catalyst to encourage publishers ... "

The NBT supported writing in all languages used in India. The rest, as they say, is history.

Singaporean envy

Ironically, after all these decades of what can only be described as suppression, Malaysia has become somewhat famous internationally for writing in English! (So much so that some Singaporeans are somewhat envious of us.) I receive queries from (sometimes I get badgered by) foreign publishers and literary agents all the time for manuscripts by Malaysian writers. They cannot understand that Malaysian writers who write in English are simply those who do so despite the system, those who have fallen through the cracks, so to speak, and that there are really not that many of them around.

Chinese and Tamil

Some years ago an academic from a local university said this: "Who says there is no Malaysian literature? Of course, there is. It is only that it's in Chinese."

Malaysian Chinese literature, I have been told, is of international standard, on par with works originating from Taiwan and Hong Kong, but better than that from Singapore. (Since I cannot read Mandarin, I have to take their word for it.) The biennial international competition run by Sin Chew has been called the Chinese Booker -- an exaggeration, perhaps. But never mind. I was once shown a literary pullout from a local Chinese daily. Like I said, I cannot read Mandarin. But two words in Roman alphabets, within brackets, stood out on the same page: [BORGES] and [BUKOWSKI]. I have yet to see any other local daily discuss anything remotely more intellectual than Harry Potter.

As for Tamil literature, I have been told it still exists, though barely. I understand that circulation is poor and authors attempt to recover costs by organising book launches and holding 'auctions'. There are, apparently, fewer and fewer Tamil readers nowadays. A ray of hope seems to be coming from a rather unlikely corner though: with the abolition of the teaching of science and maths in English, more Indian parents are beginning to send their children to Tamil schools!

Chili crab

So, is there such a thing as Malaysian literature? Yes there is, but it survives in many forms. What is vital is some acceptance and recognition. Perhaps then we can lay claim to our very own cultural cachet. In the meantime, I guess we will have to continue to live with Indonesian condescension.

And, while we are at it, let's drop the chili crab nonsense right now.

New Straits Times