To Kill A Mockingbird - a review

i must say that i like the book. so you can expect the review from me to be a positive one, unlike some of the books that i've reviewed before.

the story is told from a little girl's point of view - Jean Louise Finch, or affectionately known as Scout, the tomboyish daughter of the lawyer in Maycomb, Atticus Finch. what makes this novel appealing is the fact that Harper portrays Atticus Finch as a serious and wise erudite who talks in intellectual English , which rubs on the speech and mannerism of his children. in the novel, it is Atticus who is portrayed as the good man or the "saviour" of the town - a highly respectable man who is educated and yet polite to everybody and who is concerned with equality and justice that in the end he is blind to the facts that Jem is not responsible for the killing of Bob Ewell and is willing to have his son tried -in the name of justice.

the setting is in Maycomb, a small town in the south, in the 30s, after the Depression Era. being the daughter of a prominent lawyer of a respectable family lends Scout the credibility in telling the story as it is - the close-knit neighbourhood with its residents' idiosyncrasies, tabooes and prejudice.

in the beginning the reader is told of the story of Boo Radley being kept in the Radley's house, which both fascinates and scares the children. this leads Scout, her brother Jem and friend Dill to think of exploits, daring each other to go into the compound of the Radleys'. but towards the middle of the story, Boo Radley isn't mentioned anymore and one wonders if Harper is saving him for last, because in telling stories, nothing is ever written by accident (that's why Rushdie took 5 years to write one of his novels).

harper then expertly manoeveurs the storytelling into presenting the neighbours - the town's gossip Miss Crenshaw, Miss Maudie, who loves baking and always has a cake for the children as well as gardening. she is the one responsible for telling the children how their father was like in his youth, thus elevating their high regards for him.

through the portrayal of Scout and Jem, we see the conflicts faced by them as children of a noted lawyer - to defend the father by involving in fights, or to hold their heads high as to not embarrass their father. this is even evident in Scout, as a tomboy she receives much pressure to become a lady from her auntie alexandra who accuses atticus finch of not raising his children properly. before their aunt decides to stay with them, Calpurnia, the black american helper, helps to raise them and teaches them how to read. thus, we see the children having a few mother figures, but only one father figure, the father whom they are proud of and really respect. although, i must admit that by having the children address the father by his first name, Harper succeeds in creating an interest in the reader.

the bigger issue being discussed is the issue of racism - especially so in the south. the black Christians have separate churches, just as they have separate seats in court, and uses pidginised English when talking among themselves, as noted by Scout. later, when Atticus is appointed as attorney to Tom Robbinson, the black american who is accused of raping Mayella Ewell. before the trial, the children are subjected to jeers by their school friends who accuse their father of being "nigger-lover". although the Ewells are known as the uneducated and poor, and although facts have been established that tom did not rape her, the jury decided to charge him guilty because of his skin colour:

"Atticus had used every tool available to free men to save Tom Robbinson, but in the secret courts of men's hearts Atticus had no case. Tom was a dead man the minute Mayella Ewell opened her mouth and screamed" (Harper 266).

Harper uses Scout to bring to the readers' attention of how curious and odd a person's perception or prejudice is. Scout tells Jem of how Miss Gates (their teacher) can condemn Hitler's hatred towards Jews and yet she is still prejudiced about the blacks : "... how can you hate Hitler so bad an' then turn around and be ugly about folks right at home -?" (Harper 272).

just as i suspected, Harper saves Boo Radley for last. it is Boo Radley who saves the children from being killed by Bob Ewell.

and so, why the title?

when Atticus presents the children with rifles for their Christmas gifts, he tells them "shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit 'em, but remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird" (Harper 99). metaphorically, a mockingbird refers to good honest people. in this story, the mockingbird is epitomised by Tom Robinson, who is falsely and unjustly accused.

a well-planned, well-constructed, well-written novel.

thumbs up.

Sense & Sensibility

this is not a new book, i grant you, but Austen's novels are rich of characters that you love and hate, and they come alive in the book, to portray life as it is in the 19th century England. i was inspired to read all Austen novels after watching the Austen Book Club.

this is the third novel that i read by Austen, the first being Pride and Prejudice (duh! haha...almost everybody who reads Austen starts with this novel) and the second is Emma (of which i had to study for my 19th century literature class). although i enjoyed the two novels, i can't say the same about the third novel. i saw the movie first before reading the novel, so it was a shock to find some alterations. i dont really like elinor dashwood, i think she's too reserved and cold (sorry miss austen, hehehe...) but at least Miss Lucy Steele is portrayed as someone that i really love to hate. of all the Austen heroines, i prefer Elizabeth Bennet and Emma, because they enjoy life.

i'm not going to elaborate much, since i didn't really enjoy this novel. hope the next one will fare better.

The Enchantress of Florence by Salman Rushdie: a review

finally after almost 3 months of reading, i khatamed the book last night. this Booker Prize shortlisted book is a far cry from what Rushdie usually wrote - and i was dumbfounded for the first few pages.

yes, dumbfounded.

Rushdie always likes to write about India, and also secularism and cultural hybridity, which makes the utopian Indian society. this is evident in Shame, The Moor's Last Sigh and his Booker of the Booker Prize, Midnight's Children.

in The Moor's Last Sigh, there is a part when he goes back in time and tells the tale of the fallen Moorish king who lost the last Islamic enclave - Alhambra. this going back into the past is the main thrust in The Enchantress of Florence - as he marries the story of the Florentine Argalia the Turk to the story of the Mughal princess. the marriage results in an almost fairytale like story, with magic realism woven into it. i'm surprised to find that the epic narrative effect is almost like Gabriel Garcia Marquez's in his 100 Days of Solitude and Love in the Time of Cholera. however, Rushdie uses the setting of the Mughal empire, thus anchoring the novel to the history of India and also Rushdie's past.

Rushdie's idea of hybridity is still evident when he talks abt unrootedness and about losing one's identity as one travels in his character the Princess Qara Koz or Angelica. she discards her identity when she changes her lover, thus creating a palimpsest of identities which is peeled layer by layer when the identity is not wanted anymore. in her journey at the Ocean Sea of Mundus Novus, this losing of identity also blurs the distinction between what is real and what is unreal, what is past and what is the present.

it's becoming rather complex, isnt it? this novel will be a good study for literary scholars who delve into narratology, culture and the study of identity.

i think this is Rushdie's experiment which ends up resembling Marquez's work, i hardly recognised his style had it not been for the "uprootedness" and the small piece of explanation of theories which he likes to add in his novels. i miss his witticism and humour which he shows in his past work.

my feelings for his latest work is mixed - disappointment and also the struggle to accept his new style of narrative.

Love in the Time of Cholera - a review

this book was written by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, a writer who was once a Nobel prize winner, and this is the 2nd book by him that i read. the first was 100 Years in Solitude.

this book celebrates love, especially an enduring and everlasting love that lasts half a century. of course, when i first read the pages when Florentino, who's so much in love with Fermina that he falls sick and keeps on chewing flowers (that's magic realism for you) and then has his heart broken when Fermina returns after a sojourn and tells him it's over, i cried. yes, remember i'm a sucker for romance.

but having said that, i must say that reading about the 2 protagonists' lives before they are reunited, i would say that i prefer Fermina's life, because it's stable. she leads a respectable married life. i feel sorry for Florentino at first, but after Marquez wrote about the fourth mistress that he meets, i just get disgusted. i mean, come on...this guy is in love with the idea of love!

and just because the love of his life's hubby dies, he drops all his mistresses and tries hard to woo his ex fiancee back.

talk about being an opportunist.

i'm sorry, mr marquez. but i really hate your hero. i wish he has more guts. or are you trying to turn him into a Casanova?

having said that, however, i do admire Marquez's writing, because for me he is a good storyteller, and is now another favourite writer of mine, aside from Salman Rushdie.

The White Tiger : a review

this book is penned by Aravind Adiga, who is in fact, a year my junior and is an Oxford grad. it's kind of refreshing to see a younger face as the winner of the Booker Prize.

the structure of the novel is of a letter penned by the protagonist himself in the course of 7 nights to a Chinese diplomat. it is nothing extraordinary as various authors such as Mary Shelley have used such in their novels.

although like the rest of the Indian writers who won the Booker Prize (which includes my favourite Salman Rushdie) he wrote about India, Adiga has a distinctive way of presenting India to the readers - a tale of a corrupted India told by a surprisingly honest corrupted "entrepreneur" who thinks killing his employer is a virtue. and a selfish tut!, i might add. yes, it did shock me, because it is not like Rushdie's celebration of a colourful and vibrant India, Adiga addresses the true nature of men - of finding morality in every deed we do, including murder, in order to become a man.

but in the end, we see the protagonist mellowing down, having tasted success.

what do i think of the book? an okay book, although Indians are portrayed in a different way this time.

Fahrenheit 451

this is a required reading for those taking literature in english 2205. fortunately for my students, i have decided to use Holes by Louis Sachar in my teaching. but unfortunately for me, i have to read all the texts in the current cycle for literature in english.

last year, the literature in english teachers had to watch the movie version of this novel. i slept. so you can just imagine the dread i felt when i had to read the book.

it's supposed to be a science fiction. setting: somewhere in the US (as usual), sometime in the future, when firemen do not put out fire, but actually start a fire on the house of those who misbehave by hiding books. so it's a story of ignorance and the quest for enlightenment and knowledge.

nice concept, but not a smart way to write.

Ray Bradbury is poetic. i can see that in the diction he uses. however, it is well-suited for a more genteel? type of genre. science fiction requires hard facts. the coldness and the precision of the language. but not the artsy, flowery, poetic language.

oh, just to tell you. i slept twice just to read 24 pages. in the matter of 2 days!

Sea of Poppies: a review

this is another book shortlisted for the 2008 Booker Prize. written by Amitav Ghosh, the story is about a schooner bound to Mauritius - and the lives of the people who, by destiny, became the crew and passengers of the ship Ibis.

the story could have been well-understood if the the writer didnt resort to many Hindustani words as well as pidgin language used by the sailors. i think the overuse of the words killed the effect. i had expected to be familiar with the words as i went along, but there are too many foreign words. having said that, however, i salute Ghosh for using a lot of dialects, and also portraying the difficulty faced by Paulette Lambert, as she struggled in using English, thus making the struggle in the using other languages other than the native language more authentic.

however, Ghosh did a good job in portraying the suffering of the characters. the cruelty bestowed by the colonisers upon the colonised was well-portrayed, as i cringed when i read about the punishment the convicts had to endure.

however, i think that the story ended too abruptly, i feel that the story is unfinished. i'd give this book 7 out of 10.

Netherland: a review

they havent announced this year's Booker Prize winner, but they did give a list of the novels that are shortlisted for the prize. this book, written by Joseph O'Neill, is one of those shortlisted.

because i had nothing to do, i finished the book in a day. well, actually it took me 10 hours to read from the beginning till the end, stopping only to do the necessary stuff.

James Wood from The New Yorker has written that this book is "one of the most remarkable post-colonial books i have ever read". though i beg to differ with his opinion, i must say that the main reason why i chose the book was because of the word "post-colonial" there. yes, O'Neill brings the postcolonial issues in the form of the protagonist, Hans, a Dutch who followed his English wife to work in NY (in upper class Manhattan, naturally). but the only postcolonial element i see is the displacement suffered by the immigrants - the pakistanis, the indians, the West Indians, and Hans. O'Neill attempts to bring in the postcolonial issues by teaching Hans to respect his past, as the Dutch were the first settlers in New York, and also the legacy of cricket, that very English game, a legacy by the British, now played in Commonwealth countries. i would have liked it if 'O Neill had delved in it more.

the diction used was very articulate and vocabulary is wide-ranging, from very American to West Indianised English. however, i find O'Neil's time switching a bit disconcerting, as it's confusing to know whether a certain event happens after another or whether it comes before.

all in all, a good read. reading this should be smooth sailing, and not as daunting as Tolkie's LOTR.

The Could've Been

In the sadness of my heart,
I will always think of you
Never mind that you cut me so deep.

I will always think of you
Because I'm my true self in your company,
Delighting in the freedom of minds.

And yet the cut bleeds torrential rain of anguish,
As I face rejection.
Humiliated, I try to escape and live.

And all I could think about,
Was our rudely interrupted chat that day,
The promise of something more,
The could've been.

One Hundred Years of Solitude:a review

written by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, one of the Nobel Prize for Literature winners, this book is hailed as one of the finest novels of the 20th century. i cant agree more.

i was interested to read Marquez because when i was writing my MA dissertation on Rushdie's novels, there were a lot of critical essays comparing Rushdie to him. it was more of a curiosity on my part, as Rushdie is my favourite writer. i really wanted to find out their similarities.

the book sat on my shelf for a few months, because i have the habit of buying books for my collection (with every intention of reading each of them). what's more, literary texts arent the kind of novels that you can just read and watch tv at the same time.

and so, i brought the novel along with me when i was on the flight bound to kl, and i was surprised that i enjoyed reading it.

it is a story of a prominent family set in South America, from its first pioneering ancestor with the ambition of an alchemist, to its last descendant who commits incest and therefore brings the downfall of the family. each generation has its great moments, and also suffering. a lot of things happening at once that i was overwhelmed, and confusion arose as the descendants were named after their forefathers, so i lost track of who's who. but Marquez did a good job of weaving the story, and i found the similarity between Marquez and Rushdie. both employ magic realism in their writing, and the ending of this book is almost similar to that in Rushdie's Midnight's Children, as both protagonists are overwhelmed by the multitude and let themselves be "swallowed".

i thought about the book for more than a day. that's a great compliment, because the only other book that affected me that way was Rohinton Mistry's A Fine Balance.

thumbs up.

Sweetness in the Belly

This book by Camilla Gibbs is about the inner-conflicts of an English muslim nurse. born to hippie parents who dont believe in rooting themselves in one place, Lily is cared by a Muslim sufi guru, and is taught to read the Quran in Morocco. she then makes a journey to Ethiopia, and begins another life as a young woman there, teaching Quran to children, and falling in love with a Sudanese doctor whose modern outlook sometimes contrasts with her more Islamic views. she later loses touch with him as she flees Ethiopia, becomes a nurse and returns to her homeland, England, only that she finds herself unable to assimilate with the culture because of her dislocation. when an Indian doctor expresses his interest in her, she has to face the conflicts, and later comes to terms with the issue and finally lets go of her love.

this is a tender love story that also grapples with the political issues of Ethiopia as well as postcolonial issues of rootlessness, dislocation and relocation of a person that affects her identity. this story also exposes the readers to the world of Sufism , and a closer look into the Islam world through the everyday lives of Muslims.

i'll give this 7 out of 10.

The English Patient: A Review

i was at a second hand book shop and was browsing through the literature section when i came across this book. yes, the title is familiar, and it's written by Michael Ondaatje, whose novel Coming Through Slaughter we studied for 20th century literature class. well the price was good, so without anymore thoughts i bought the book. only when i was in the staffroom did i realised that the cover of the book might be a tad intimate. i asked my friend "is this provocative for our school?" she nodded vehemently with a grin "yes it is provocative". so i covered the book, which reminds of the days when i was in seri puteri (my students would roll their eyes and groan if they read this recollection of the days in seri puteri), when we used to cover our romance novels (banned in school) with white paper.

okay, back to the book. yes, it has an english patient. but the english patient, as immobile intelligent and cultured man as he is, is not the protagonist. in fact, the protagonists are his nurse, and the Sikh sapper who only makes his appearance in the book after a few pages. thus, he decentralises the role of protagonist from the assumption reader will deduce when reading the title.

ondaatje uses the technique of flashback skillfully, which gives a reader an intimate look into their lives. this is a sensual book, of how love is expressed not sexually, but through intimacy, and is understood and accepted unselfishly.

1 plus point, i like ondaatje's painting of words which he has done beautifully. there are beautiful phrases in the book, which i should mention later on (should i remember). this book won the man booker prize of 1992.

Romeo and Juliet: Star-Crossed Lovers

Romeo and Juliet is bard's most famous play in the world, and it is now being studied by students taking Literature in English paper for SPM for the new cycle which started last year. last year, one of my students studied the play while the rest did Pygmalion by George Bernard Shaw. this year, i hope that my current Literature student, Keshen Antioni, will work hard and finish his novel asap before we can embark on this play.

most people shun away from Shakespearean plays. my first introduction to Shakespeare was by reading Charles and Mary Lamb's painless summary of the play at the age of 12. when i was in Seri Puteri and was actively involved in the English Soc., we had to stage A Merchant of Venice when i was 15, and A Midsummer Night's Dream when i was 16. thus, my passion for literature began.

the play Romeo and Juliet is about the innocence of love. Romeo is just 15 and Juliet is 13. both come from warring families, Romeo is from the house of Montague and Juliet is a Capulet. on their first meeting, Romeo falls in love at first sight and wishes to kiss Juliet:

Romeo: If i profane by my unworthiest hand,
This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this,
My lips two blushing Pilgrims ready to stand,
To smooth the rough touch with a gentle kiss
...
Juliet:Saints do not move, though for grant for prayers sake.
Romeo: Then move not while my prayer's effect i take, from my lips, by thine my sin is purg'd.
Juliet: then have my lips the sin they have took.
Romeo: sin from my lips, O tresspass sweetly urg'd: give me my sin again.

Such is the passion these lovers have. However, they learn the cold hard truth about their families:

Romeo: Is she a Capulet, oh dear account! My life is my foe’s debt.
Juliet: My only love sprung from my only hate,
Too early seen, unknown, and known too late,
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathed enemy.

Thus a tragedy strikes, the tragedy of twisted fate that surrounds them. And yet, youth’s optimism and love do not fail. Romeo, lovesick after meeting Juliet at the mask ball, steals into the Capulet garden and thus begins the most romantic scene in theatre history – the balcony scene.

Romeo: but soft, what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the East, and Juliet is the Sun.
….
Juliet: O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name
Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I’ll no longer be a Capulet.

The hatred of both families is so great, and yet these lovers represent the hope for a truce with their innocent love, which can outweigh the hatred. The love is deep, says Juliet “My love as deep, the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Later, the two lovers are married secretly by Friar Laurence, who sees the union of these two as the instrument of bringing peace between the two warring houses.

Friar Laurence: In one respect I’ll thy assistant be:
For this alliance may so happy prove,
To turn your households’ rancour to pure love.

Scarcely after getting married, Romeo is banished from Verona for killing Tybalt, Juliet’s cousin. Lord Capulet intends to marry Juliet to a young man called Paris, thus Juliet is in a dilemma. The only solution is to drink a potion that will render Juliet deathlike. The news of Juliet’s death reaches Romeo, unfortunately Friar’s messenger fail to deliver the message to Romeo that this is only a ruse. He buys a poison from an apothecary and sets to Verona to gaze at his beloved for the last time, drinks the poison, and dies beside Juliet. Juliet then wakes up from her deep slumber and finds a cup:

Juliet: What’s here? A cup clos’d in my true love’s hand?
Poison I see hath been his timeless end:
O churl, drunk all? And left no friendly drop
To help me after, I will kiss thy lips
Haply some poison yet doth hang on them,
To make me die with a restorative.
Thy lips are warm.

For Juliet, life has no meaning without her Romeo, who represents hope and happiness amidst the family feuds. Thus, she exercises the marriage vows “till death do us part” and kills herself with a dagger, not wanting to live without her Romeo.

However, the lovers death bring peace to the Montagues and the Capulets, but with a heavy price.

And thus concludes the love story of Romeo and Juliet, who love with a passion but are victims of fate.

Note to Nash: this is a spur of the moment thingy, so you can see that i didnt include any critical analysis hehehe...i've my own reasons for writing this.

A Book Review on Rushdie's Shalimar the Clown

contrary to it's title which sounds like the story of a clown straight from a children's book, rushdie's novels are never intended for children. his novels deal with the changing faces in postmodern societies which include cultural hybridity, liminal spaces, national identity, and sociopolitical stands which include Nehru's secular model as well as communalism which he dislikes.

if in midnight's children the hybrid space is his beloved city bombay, and in the moor's last sigh it's Palimpstine, then in shalimar the clown, the hybrid space is kashmir. he writes abt the beauty and the harmony that existed in kashmir as different cultures and religions co-exist, and the marriage of boonyi kaul with and shalimar the clown proves this. rushdie also speaks of elements which threaten the peace of kashmir - which include communalism and the arrival of mat sallehs.

the story ends in a morbid note though. killing secularism and the chances of cultural hybridity is the same like killing ourselves. may be that's his message. on a personal note, i dont quite like this novel for its morbidity. i prefer Midnight's Chiildren for its brilliance and exuberance. which, of course, won him the Booker of the Booker prize...

memoirs of a geisha: a review

the movie came out earlier this year. i've yet to watch the movie, but according to gina, it's slooowww. well, i can just imagine that it's as slow as the da vinci code. i read memoirs of a geisha to gauge how good the book is. my honest opinion? it's too slow for me.

yes, the story opens a new world to us - the world of the geishas and their lives as entertainers (and as dignified upperclass gros). when i read the book, i wasnt too excited to know wat's going to happen next. i had to force myself to read more than 10 pages a day...and that says a lot, since i had to read a lot of difficult literary texts when i was doing my masters.

just like the da vinci code which received a lot of hoo haas from worldwide readers, this book didnt leave me a lasting impression. in fact, there's no impression at all, except that it's the type of light reading you can take up when you're at the beach or when there's a flight delay.

i remember reading kazuo ishiguro's the remains of the day which won him the booker prize in the 90s. sure, it's not as exciting, but the difference between a good read (usually that means literary text) and just plain pulp fiction is that a good read will lead you to ponder about life - truly ponder about life. the remains of the day is a story about an english butler, so dedicated to his work that he never realises the love the housekeeper has for him...later in his life when he's growing old does he realise his feelings for her. and then it's too late.

another tip: good writers dont present us the story, they want us to interact with it, so they dont reveal everything and let us wonder.

Nora's Poem: A Tale of A Wanderer

A wanderer never stops her journey,
Walking through a maze of blur shapes
I am trudging my weary feet,
To an unknown destination.
Worn till hopes are cracked to dust.

The wind howls,
Articulating the pain.
Tears course through the lifeless
Veins of earth.

The quest is too long
The treasure too elusive.
I’m bent by every failure,
Till I drop to my knees and weep bitterly.
Je suis fatiguee′.
Je suis fatiguee′.

The Fraternity of Literature Scholars

when i first enrolled to do my postgrad in 2001, i didnt know wat i got myself into. i understood that i took the road less travelled by, as Frost writes it, but i never knew the impact it was to have on my life.

unlike the other majors which attract a lot of students such as medicine, education, business admin, economics, law and computer science; english literature attracts only a small group of people probably because only bookworms can stand reading 4 novels a week, and those who are poets and writers at heart can understand the aesthetic values of the literary texts.

in the 1st semester, i met Kak Non and Kak Fazi, who, like me, received scholarship, but theirs was from BPG and mine was under federal scholarship. we bonded immediately, and had dinners and lunches together in bangsar with another coursemate, Jayasree, also a teacher who had to dash here and there as she's in a sports school. there was Elison, a very witty lawyer, (but then again, which lawyer isnt witty? i know a lot of lawyers...they always have something to say about something) who thought that literature would be a breeze, just like the paper she sat for STPM. hmm...she would always arrive late for our Friday afternoon classes, in her lawyer ensemble of black and white, and Assoc. Prof Dr Su would frown at her and remind her to not be tardy again. it was also Elison who was barred from entering the library for 2 weeks because she was caught talking to her client on the phone in the library *grin*. then there was the fresh Literature graduates - david, christine, emily and puphinder. the first few months were hard since we didnt understand wat the lecturers wanted, but they were the ones who eased the tension in the class. they were the ones in charge of photocopying handouts or novels or literary criticisms. then there was Kasi, a quiet man from Sg Petani. a thinker, but doesnt say much. and Tik Shaiza who like Jayasree, had to dash from her school to class and was always tired.

it was harder for us, because this was not a lecture style class. this was a seminar style class and each of us was responsible in covering a certain writer or, for literary theory, a certain theory or theorist or philosopher. and wat i meant by covering a certain writer was that we had to read at least 2 novels of that writer (for the paper presenter) and to discuss an issue, say, the impact of colonialism in Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness or the feminist perspective in Margaret Atwood's novels. the lecturer would be throwing questions, and then we would discuss. i remember that we were once told to stay put during our 20th century literature because we didnt finish reading Virginina Woolf. we would come early to class and sat down to finish reading th novels. nearby, the M.Ed. students were noisily discussing their assignment. we were quiet. those were the days.

the class that i enjoyed the most was The Rennaissance, simply because the one who taught it was Prof Lim, the most noted Literature lecturer in Malaysia. we would gawk at him when he started reciting Shakespeare or Donne or Milton out of nowhere in that deep resonant voice of his. he was later my internal examiner for the grading of my dissertation. the subject which was really mindboggling was Literary Theory, because we had to read up a lot of theories and who said wat that it was all a blur. the only theorists i can remember now is Genette (who wrote abt narratology), Barthes (the death of the author), Foucault (i hope to god he's the one who wrote abt deconstruction and abt knowledge being the power), Freud (yes, the perverted man who thinks everything is governed by desire, and that baby girls have sexual desire for the father and baby boys have sexual desire for the mother), Lacan (who wrote abt our alter ego), the feminists Simone de Beauvoir, Helene Cixous and postcolonial theorists such as Stuart Hall and Homi Bhabha. yes it was mindboggling...not to say the least, and the only one who excelled in this (in fact, excelled in every class) is my fren Nash. we told him not to ask us questions if we're presenting...and if it's not our turn, we told him to talk a lot so that the lecturer wouldnt ask us questions. nash impressed the lecturers, naturally... we would spend saturday lunches together, talking nothing else but literature. yes, to some of you it's boring, but it's actually mind stimulating. then there was iris madonna de cruz, but who is a muslim actually. a typical motherly type who was there to give me advice but was clueless about computers.

all of us are in this battle together, and wat my supervisor told wasnt nice to hear "not everyone who take this course can graduate". it's true wat she said though, because so many of our frens have given up. but it was during this time, when understanding, patience, perseverance were needed, that we would give our shoulders to cry on to each other. it wasnt easy to write a 7000 word essay for the final exam. it was difficult to write up a dissertation of about 30 000 words and then to meet the high standards that the English Dept has set. there were tears of frustration, and of dejection, of self-esteem going down the drain. Dr Carol was so sweet to enquire abt the progress of my dissertation and to give suggestions. i would say that Kak Non was there for me when i was frustrated. Nash was there to help me with the arguments, and David gave me pointers on the steps i had to take. some had left, like Elison, who is too busy with work that she doesnt have the time to sit n read (except for court cases). now that i've graduated it s my turn to help the others. i had a discussion with shaiza who is starting her dissertation, and sent her a book that i thought might help her. i pestered kak non to complete her edgar allen poe analysis. and nash... i told him to sit down and finish the dissertation..once and for all, instead of flying everywhere around the world presenting papers at lit conferences.
only through struggle do we triumph. going through this course, i realised that i'm a better writer, better thinker, able to present ideas critically and a better speaker. it also helps me to understand life better because literature is, after all, a slice of life. to the fraternity of literature scholars, hang on in there.

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield - Alfred, Lord Tennyson

a book review: the kite runner by khaled hosseini

"for you, a thousand times over."


a guru cemerlang lent me this book when i visited her house last month. knowing that i'm a literary buff, she wanted me to experience the whole gamut of feelings.

unlike any other postcolonial novels that i've read before (which is always set in india), this story takes place in afghanistan and later in the US. it's a story of a rich boy craving for his great father's attention and love, and how jealousy leads him to do an unforgiveable thing - which is to watch his half-brother, hassan,(which is revealed near to the end of the story), who was born to serve him; sodomised by his rival, and not do anything to stop it. what is even more touching is that, the half -brother, is so devoted to his "master", and always he'd say to his Amir agha "for you, a thousand times over". amir, as a boy, cannot forgive himself for his silence and is reminded of his crime as he sees hassan everyday. this guilt conscience leads him to frame the half-brother for a theft.

only as a man does he discover the true identity of hassan, and he struggles to redeem himself by trying to adopt hassan's son, his nephew, and bring him to america.

what do i think of this book? hmm...probably slightly above the average, though not as bad as arundhati roy's first novel the god of small things. to be sure, hosseini knows how to manipulate the readers' emotions, and i was affected when i read the part when hassan is sodomised, but this is like a roller-coaster ride, when your adrenaline rush is the greatest when you descend. after the 2nd roller-coaster descend, i'm beginning to get bored. seriously, i was even waiting for the 3rd one. anticipation by a reader is not good for a writer. it kills the sense of unexpected.

well, the story ends happily, conflicts resolved as amir gains redemption through the smile of his nephew in the land of american dream.

okla, he had me when he has hassan says "for you, a thousand times over".

Song of the Sea: Laments of a Heart: A Tale of Innocence

In solitude
I crossleg on the millions of granules,
witnessing the birth of a new day.
It's peaceful around here.
Before me spreads a priceless painting,
Splashes of pink and orange spice the dull blue.
entitled "happy colours of the innocence".
Strange as it seems, the colours that remind me of you
are created on this land.

As children we breathed the same salty breeze.
We frolicked under the same sun.
We watched the high and the ebb.
But I had strayed from our playground.
And you, with the gentleness of the lapping
waves in June,
brought me back.
We were the innocence.
We confided our dreams,
We laughed, and we shared.
But today there are only regrets and a sharp pang.

This emptiness in me will no longer be filled with innocence.
The waves still lap gently.
They come and retreat.

I'm sitting here alone
Realising I can never catch my waves.
Realising I will miss you a lifetime.

penned on this day, 29th June 2003.

Song of the Sea: Collecting Shells

In the midst of the calm morning sea,
I left fresh footsteps in the wet brown sand.
The peach globe was radiant and well-pleased,
listening to the orchestrated waves.

I couldnt help myself but smiled,
And looking down,
I was a girl once more.
There lay a curved row of beautiful treasures
of pink, brown and white.
I bent down and picked one.
With each piece I was reminded
of visits with my father,
listening to his tales of fishermen
reading the stars to sail home with their bounty;
eagles would fly majestically to signify the end of monsoon.

To the South China Sea
I paid homage and re-lived the ritual,
collecting treasures of the sea.
This is my land,
And the shells bind me to it.

penned on 6th June 07.