Monday, March 04, 2013

Local heroes


Tash Aw was here in Silverfish Books to read from his latest (and third) book on February 23. Interestingly, Silverfish Books was the only bookshop he read at, although his KL tour was organised by MPH. Something like this would have been unthinkable just a year ago: an independent taking precedence over a mega-store. (But then, there are far fewer of those in the city now.) We believe Tash himself prefers to read in a cosy setting than in a 'supermarket aisle' of a big store, and he (apparently) told the organisers that. Still. Thank you, MPH, for giving us the privilege.

About 60 guests turned up to see and hear Tash Aw, and to get their books signed. We had received 30 RSVPs. (Many who said they were coming, didn't; and many who didn't say, came). It was a good session, and Tash e-mailed to say he enjoyed it. He wished he had more time, though.

Tash Aw and Tan Twan Eng (who was also present) are Malaysia's two leading writers on the international stage at the moment (they are having a pretty good run), both self-made, both living overseas much of their time. Tash Aw won the 2005 Whitbread First Novel Award, as well as the Commonwealth Writers Prize for Best First Novel (Asia Pacific region). Tan Twan Eng was short-listed for the Booker and the Man Asian Literary Prize 2012.

It's tempting to think that only Malaysians who live and get published overseas are successful. There are some advantages to that, of course. More money for marketing and promotions. Better environment for writing. The downside: it's almost impossible to penetrate that world, it's tough, and most authors will last as long as the flavour on a ice-cream lolly.  The books will be remaindered and will turn up in BookXcess within two years, while authors are tossed aside like used Kleenex. It's brutal. The entire Anglo-American book industry (AABI) is run by accountants. It is an industry that shamelessly panders to the lowest common denominator (while others try to reach for the sky.) The AABI lives in a vacuum (no translations, please, we're English), although traditionally they have been the most open. There are, certainly, many extremely creative independent publishers there, but they are forced to play the game to survive. (Does anyone still remember Yang-May Ooi -- The Flame Tree, Mindgame?)

Writing whilst living in Malaysia is a drag (made even more difficult for people who want to become famous authors without reading). You'll have to work like a slave in your day job, you won't get rich , and write 'with a cat crawling on your back, while the whole city trembles in earthquake, bombardment, flood and fire'. (Apologies, Charles Bukowski). The upside: enough exciting happenings around here every day for anyone who wants to write (the cusp-of-history thing, so to speak); books have longer shelf life here; a good chance the books will be read in universities and colleges; you'd be a famous Malaysian writer for a much longer time -- you'd be at the beginning of the fame curve, not at the end of it; and you'd be writing about your own people, for your own people and not about an exotic non-existent stereotype for foreign consumption, which, at Silverfish Books, we call the New Orientalism, a sort of a literary Black and White Minstrel Show -- white people imitating black people imitating white people. (Is this what's called post-colonial in academese?)

Shih-Li Kow is a chemical engineer, now in real estate management, and a mom; Rozlan Mohd Noor is a HR consultant and a single dad; Iskandar Al-Bakri is a practicing lawyer; and between them they have appeared on five short- and long-lists of international awards since 2009. Not bad for galley slaves, huh? And when we speak of Malaysian writing, we cannot ignore those who write in Malay and Chinese. Malay fringe writing is quite vibrant at the moment, and exciting. One can't help but enjoy their enthusiasm and vibes when one is with them at one of their events. The same can't be said of 'classic' Malay writing, though. The ultra-defensive, incestuous, stand it has assumed does not augur well. Its refusal to absorb any outside influence, condemns it to be forever trapped in a 'bahtera cinta' spiral. (Indonesians are way past that.) As for works written in Chinese, we hear that its pretty cutting-edge, but that's from a secondary source.

All told, writing in Malaysia has had many springs in the last six decades or so, but the present one feels like it might stretch into a nice long summer, with more new local heroes.