How many times can one read "poetic allusions" to the sky, in one sitting, anyway: "my mind's sky" (Page 10), "pain's blue sky" (Page 14), who-knows-how-many-more skies...
And Cyril Wong's Editorial Note led me to think that I am reading Mr. Cyril Wong's caricature of Mr. Md Mukul Hossine. ("Warm, trusting, garrulous").
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Perhaps the team behind this book might find it helpful to read Edward Said's "Orientalism" and see how its elements may apply to the dynamics between the middle class of Singapore and the migrant-workers on the island.
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I am off to read a play by Elfriede Jelinek, "what happened after Nora left her husband", which is related to Ibsen's "A doll's house". I enjoy that much more
If I remember correctly, I read its fourth edition.)
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In the chapter titled "Bridging the divide: The Singapore experience", Mr. Mahbubani claims, "there are no homeless, destitute or starving people in Singapore".
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But Mr. Mahbubani fails to substantiate such a bold claim with any statistics, studies or such like.
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Clearly I have to think critically about whatever else Mr. Mahbubani claims.
Some may laud Mr. Black's words as a "stream of consciousness", but I felt
as if facts were being stuffed down my throat. An off-putting experience (for me, at least).
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And I recall someone writing: "given the weight of facts, it is very difficult to avoid reporting the facts. This calls for astuteness of means, and a distillation of materials."
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Does Mr. Black come across as astute, through the pages of this book? I leave it to another (new) reader to discover for himself/herself/themselves.
Just a little too opinionated - and/or sarcastic - for my liking. I provide a couple of examples.
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"Some things should leave us: a sigh like your father," Jee Leong writes on Page 29. (Jee Leong addresses the poem to Jee Leong's father). In other words, Jee Leong's grandfather is like a sigh and he - our grandfather - should leave us. Ouch.
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"What a hoot to find out adults are like old cartoons. There slinks Mrs. Divorce. Here comes smiling Mr. Knifeinyourback." (Page 27). Ironically enough, Jee Leong himself comes across as Mr. Angry Young Man.
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Why do I read poetry? I read poetry to have a little more light with which to walk this meandering path in these dark woods. But Jee Leong's words seem to say: "Look at how dark these woods are."
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Not my cup of tea.
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(I had more joy while reading the collection of poems titled "Poems on The Underground", edited by Gerard Benson.)
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(By the way, Jee Leong's photo, which appears on the back cover of my copy of this book, seems a little too pixellated (for my liking), and thus lends a slightly shoddy quality to this book).
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(Also, by the way, I think Jee Leong's words - or a few of them, at least - might work better as prose, instead of verse.)
