Mr Han's Affair with Books and Literature

My formative years were spent reading Enid Blyton as well as Hardy Boys. It surprises me that some schools’ libraries actually still carry the Hardy Boys. (I think it’s quite dangerous when students assume that if something is published, it is good writing that is timeless… and start to adopt antiquated dialogue and speech expressions into their own writing). I also read a lot of R.L Stine which spelled a certain phase of juvenile fascination with horror and the macabre. Unfortunately, later in life this only got me as far as one Anne Rice novel which I picked up randomly and one Stephen King novel. Also, there was plenty of Roald Dahl lying around my grandmother’s house, left behind by older cousins (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, James and the Giant Peach, Witches, Esio Trot). One book which I picked up at the local library’s sale would prove invaluable to my store of randomly useful information… it was a book on Greek Mythology. As a result I know most of the major Greek Pantheon and most of the well-known legends (very useful in understanding the references in Gaiman’s Sandman). 

Growing up, I stumbled upon Terry Pratchett at my local library, being drawn to the quirky colourful cover illustration.The single author that I have obsessively followed would be Terry Pratchett, in particular his Discworld series. I should think that I can safely claim that I have read everything so far and sincerely hope that he can fight off Alzheimer’s and produce a few more novels.

I read rather sparsely in Secondary school, given that I did not take Literature at O levels, but that changed when I went to JC. At Anderson Junior College I studied Gothic Literature which my tutor summarized as sex and violence. (Dracula, Melmoth the Wanderer and Angela Carter’s The Bloody Chamber) I recall everyone really hated studying Seamus Heaney’s poetry since quite a large number of them weren’t very readily accessible without having prior knowledge. (The fact that we had to order a thick, expensive anthology through Amazon didn’t help). There was a certain quality about Heaney that attracted me though, in his choice of imagery, the voice he employed and the sounds he used. Of course this was also my first brush with Shakespeare, Othello and Much Ado About Nothing. I still haven’t got round to reading and remembering what goes on in the other major plays.

It haunts me like a mark of shame.

In the same manner that I am not trained in Practical Criticism.

Anyway, I started writing a bit more poetry in JC, got introduced by one of my tutors to more local poets. This eventually led to more stumbling in the local library, having wandered over to the Singapore Collection and picking up different books to read. Over the years my favourite local poets have come to include Cyril Wong, Alfian Sa’at, Boey Kim Cheng and more recently, Paul Tan. I’ve also read whatever I could find on the shelves: Alvin Pang, Toh Hsien Min, Felix Cheong, Arthur Yap, Ng Yi-Sheng, Aaron Maniam etc.

On a side note, I’ve also read all of Neil Gaiman’s Sandman graphic novels.

‘A’ levels came and went. Fast forward through Army, which I can’t remember what I read.

In NUS, I had my fair share of all the usual suspects. A liberal dose of Women’s Writing, Feminist Literature, Victorian Literature, Psychoanalysis, Postcolonial Literature, Asian-American Literature, Renaissance Literature (which I can’t remember much of), Critical Theory (which I absolutely hated), SEA Literature, Dystopian Literature… etc. Sadly I performed better in the Theatre Studies modules I studied. Introduction to TS and Singapore English Language Theatre.  Of all the texts that were done, I still fondly recall Coetzee, Marquez, Rushdie, Atwood, Woolf. I really enjoyed the Dystopian module in particular.

I was really sad that NUS ironically did not offer a single module on Singapore Literature.

Something that also piqued my interest was ekphrastic poetry, taught during the Postmodern module. I’m giving it a shot whenever I can now. Here’s something recent I did:

what should i say

if my clay lips

could part to 

make way for

the tumult of my

hollow torso
missing

a stone hewn
heart? 

Recently trying to make it a point to pick up cheap classics. I finished Lolita while I was having my ESE attachment. Retrospectively I realize it’s not very appropriate to read paedophilic erotica during the silent reading at morning assembly. Currently also just got through a short Murakami novel (previously really detested his writing, but starting to appreciate how he depicts the loneliness in the urban condition). Going to start with a thin Ishiguro novel as well.

I guess I have plenty on my to-read-before-I-die list… more Shakespeare, more Greek classics, more poetry from around the world, more recent works…

It’s a long journey.