Of translation, books, languages and me
未完待續。很多事情都在「進行式」模式。人生如此，書店也如此吧。
昨天剛開張的書店，我隔天就迫不及待去了。
一踏入二樓的書店，感覺好像整個人都靜下心來。氛圍感十足。
這裡的書籍不多，但是看得出來是有用心curate的。至少我非常滿意。
這裡真的主打一個隨意。很多書都未拆封。但老闆也說了，想看就自己拆。也不一定要買。
哈哈哈。夠隨意吧。聽老闆說以後會搞活動！
字體也太好看了！！！！
我那沒練過的字體 . . . 還是算了吧。
我今天去得有些匆忙，沒時間翻閱這幾本書。好像是攝影的書籍，而且大多絕版了。不賣。
（哈哈好久沒有寫部落格了。感覺都生疏了。最近一直沒有時間閱讀中文書籍。希望今天買的書能讓我回到一周閱讀至少一本的速度。一天一本就不敢奢求了。）
233A New Bridge Road Singapore 059441
Chinatown MRT 出口 (徒步三分鐘)
在長年夏日的國度裡，沒有四季分明一說。時間的流逝的真切感不是來自於天氣和大自然的變化，而是由心情來劃分。人生起起伏伏，不能事事如意。有似春風花開的季節，也有難忍的酷寒。這一次心中的冬天來得太突然，讓人措手不及。本以為就是刮刮風，下下雨，但是暴風雪就那麼突然的降臨了。來得快，去得快。留下一望無際的霧，和殘破不堪的一切。
說起來也挺好笑的，總在心情低落時才想寫部落格，以致大多數的篇章都好像顯得特別鬱鬱寡歡。今天突然想起，翻出我在網絡某一角留下的部落格。那裡記載了某年某月的一些感慨、一絲惆悵。似乎把記憶封鎖在文字裡。除了網址，我也忘了登入信息，也沒有想去刪掉或是登入。感覺一縷魂魄消散在茫茫大海裡。挺好的。既然來興致了，就讀了幾篇。有些痛記憶猶新，有些缺以釋然。因為我都寫得有些模擬兩可，甚至有幾篇我都不太清楚文字裡埋著的到底是哪一段記憶。
都說時間是良藥，能撫平一切的過往。也許吧。很多以前特別介意的事，現在想起來也沒什麼。那時候的迷惘有些也不復存在了。我看到了我的成長，時間的治癒。當時特別傷心的事，現在也能一笑而過。
突然間就覺得我應該繼續寫部落格。有朝一日，再回顧現在的心情和遭遇，我是否也能淡然處之？
要釋懷，一般有兩種辦法：理性的、感性的。但在感情分裂時，好像都不管用。當一方決定放手，原有的一切就破碎了。本就看不見，摸不著的東西，也在一瞬消失了，哪還有釋懷一說呢？當原本屬於兩人的交際生生的裂開了，它就不存在了。
所以能做的，往往只有接.受.。為何要在中間加個點呢？真的就是字面上的：承接對方給予的痛、受著。有些人與事太過於荒唐，想著想著也是徒勞。如果你選擇衡量對方的一些好與壞，也抵不過同樣的結果。
所以只能接.受.，再接受。
Magic realism, land reclamation, a story of nation-building.
It’s hard to think how the elements can come together to make a story, but Rachel Heng’s epic narrative blends everything into a gripping tale.
In a small fishing village in the 1940s, Ah Boon follows his father to sea for the first time. He’s not cut out for fishing but he braves the sea in hope to gain recognition from his father. That day, they chance upon a mysterious island that his father and elder brother, despite being seasoned fishermen, do not recognise. That day, the catch is unusually good.
They soon realise that the islands seem to exist in a different realm, and while Ah Boon was initially the only one who could find them, everyone he shares the secret with can do so. Ah Boon is sent to school, where he falls in love with Siok Mei, whose parents left her in the custody of an uncle as they pursue leftist causes.
Soon, the landscape changes with the onset of the war. Ah Boon’s father is killed by the Jipunlang (Japanese) in WWII and as political tensions intensifies after WWII and the early post-war days, Ah Boon and Siok Mei are further torn apart by their political differences. Siok Mei remains loyal to the leftist movement, while Ah Boon gets a job with the Gah Men (government) to help with community outreach efforts at the newly built community center in their village. Ah Boon helps to persuade the kampung to move to the new and modernised government-built flats. At the same time, he falls in love with an educated Gah Woman, Natalie, and he aspires to the ways of the Gah Men. Meanwhile, plans are ongoing to reshape the coastline, filling the seas with sand and pushing the fishing village further and further away from their livelihoods. Ah Boon’s uncle, one of the few remaining in the village, sees the Gah Men as yet another evil power. As the land, and its people are pulled further apart by the conflicting ideologies and the sweeping changes of modernisation, the Great Reclamation project runs into trouble. There’s a lack of sand. Where can they find sand, what sacrifices will it entail?
What is breathtaking about the novel is how well it brings us through the upheavals of Singapore’s nation-building while keeping the story firmly rooted in Ah Boon and the fishing village. It’s like seeing Singapore’s history from the perspective of the kampung — somewhat removed from the different forces sweeping through the nation yet very much affected at the same time.
And I love the use of the word Gahmen. While still common among older folks to refer to the government, it has also integrated itself in the vocabulary of younger Singaporeans and most commonly used on online forums when Singaporeans are complaining about politics and the government. On a tangent, I’m also reminded of the Hokkien word for government Jeng Hu and how we often used Bo Jeng Hu (no government) when talking about a situation lacking authority or governance (e.g. when the boss is not around).
All in all, a brilliant read.
他誕生於一本書的
空白的
第一頁
他執迷
色彩繽紛的顏料
他渴望某天成為天空的彩虹
直到他遇見
黑
出自於「用白紙做的小孩」/ 伍政瑋 （@seabreezebookssg 出版）
文字精辟。這是我第一印象。 伍政瑋的詩詞給我的感覺很特別。易懂，又不失文采。不常讀詩集的人也能很快的融入詩的意境。雖說詩詞易懂，但也留了空間給讀者自己琢磨其中深層的含意。字句間透著對成長、人生、社會的感悟，從而也引導讀者去思考自己的經歷。 伍政瑋的詩不受傳統格律限制，節奏、形式多樣化，其中的創意也讓詩詞變得有趣。這是一本我會反覆閱讀的詩集，推薦指數11/10。
Incisive, experimental, clever, and fun.
That’s how I’d describe Wu Zheng Wei’s debut poetry collection. While I have half a foot (or maybe a toe) in the literary scene, I tend to approach reviews from the perspective of the average reader that I am, and to me, the accessibility of a book is also as important as its literary quality or brilliance. It’s so fun to read. And that’s why I love it so much.
Wu picks up the most mundane and everyday objects or happenings around us and turn it into beautiful and sharp lines that I find myself rolling over my tongue and brain, chewing over each and every single word. I love poetry that points me to things I tend to overlook or forget, and the brevity of each piece makes me slow down to digest what’s within the lines, and how it intersects with my own experience and perspectives.
The collection is divided into two part: 「十分痛」and 「微雨之城」. The first part is about coming of age, the latter part zooming out to look at the fabric of society.
Would recommend this 11/10.
What a badass title. This a reissue of Wong May’s poetry collection, first published in 1969 (!) in the US.
Before I go into how her work makes me feel (and it does evoke FEELS), I’m very intrigued by Wong May herself. In her case, it feels like reading her work is reading her and to know her work, you must know her. Please read the foreword!!
Wong May hails from Chongqing, China, spending her formative years in Singapore, attending Chinese-medium schools before going on to major in English Lit in NUS and then moving to the US for an MFA and now residing in Dublin. She’s a transnational poet who is hard to categorise – just like her work. It’s interesting how her work is only published in Singapore 54 years later, and she appears to be – until recently – relatively unknown even among the local literary circle.
Intriguing is also a word to describe her work. I initially thought that the title came from one of the poems in the book, as is usually the case, but later, I realise that perhaps the poems are the animals, wild and unfettered.
I’d be honest and say that initially, I thought her poetry was ‘hard.’ Or perhaps unfamiliar might be a better word. Upon reflection, perhaps I was also seeing her poetry from within the restrictions of my own world and my barebone understanding of poetry. When I tried to let go and just immerse myself in the ‘wordlessness’ of things – a word she uses herself – her poetry reads different. To me, that’s a lesson learnt.
Her work is meant to be enjoyed visually, playing with the use of spacing at times, and the strong sense of musicality and rhythm also give me pause.
It’s clearly a collection that begs to engage with all your senses and it reminds me somewhat of Lynn Xu’s ‘And Those Ashen Heaps that Cantilevered Vase of Moonlight.’ I was lucky to visit her debut exhibition in MOCA Tucson last year – a true experiment in installation and format, translating, retelling, and reimagining her poetry. I find myself imagining that with Wong May’s work.
One thing I love about reading poetry is that there’s so much room for imagination and what we take away is uniquely ours. For me, I love the strong personality that seems to infuse each piece and I wonder how it would be like to read her poetry back in the 1960s!
Kudos to Ethos Books for bringing her work back to Singapore and to Tse Hao Guang for pushing for the republication of her work and for writing such a deeply personal and thoughtful foreword.
Buy it on Ethos Books
