By Pencil Writer
Last month, I attended Gwee Li Sui’s lecture on Kirpal Singh, the second of the series Sing Lit 101: How to Read a Singaporean Poem. The series analyses poetry written in Singapore’s nation-building decades and unpacks its meaning for today’s audience. The poems covered that day include: Kirpal Singh’s “Crossing Over”, “Two Voices,” “They Say,” among others, and works by other poets, such as Ogden Nash’s “Columbus,” Edwin Thumboo’s “Gods Can Die,” and Koh Beng Liang’s “Singapore.” I was first drawn to the event by the promise that Gwee’s talks are accessible and insightful, and I felt the event lived up to its promise. The post-lecture discussion also provided good food for thought, and prompted me to think about how Singapore’s culture of social critique has (not) evolved. On the whole, Gwee provided a fun and interesting analysis of the poems and I was struck by the sense of oppression as well as playfulness that ran through most of them.
The poem that exemplified these two qualities for me and which I liked best, was Singh’s “They Say.” As Gwee put it, the poem describes people having fun while knowing they are trapped.
Wow! This is good everyone says
For we all do what we really wanna do
And everything thinks we do all good things
And of course we are, we wouldn’t dare otherwise
Not in a place where they say do this, do that
Not in a place where they say think this, think that
And certainly not, no never, in a place
Where they say eat this and eat that
-Excerpt from Kirpal Singh’s “They Say”
Though the words and sentiments expressed seem simple, they capture a sense of resignation to the rules (“of course…we wouldn’t dare do otherwise) while hinting at a spirit of mischief (“We all do what we really wanna do”). As with the other poems, nothing is explicitly said but the average Singaporean can guess at the “things” we are supposed to do and not do. Moreover, the reference to eating makes the poem relatable to Singaporeans because of our obsession with and love for food. Gwee’s analysis of the poem helped me to engage with and enjoy its playful nature and local flavour, as well as understand the broader concerns it expressed about Singaporean society. Written in 2012, it is a relatively recent poem. Yet, it is telling of Singapore culture today that much of our sentiments and thoughts remain veiled. Decades after the threat of Communism and Operation Cold Store, the fear of saying what we truly mean seems embedded in the minds of many writers and poets even in the 21st century. This is something that I have found true of the texts and poems we have studied in class as well.
After reading works such as, Kassim Ahmad’s “A Common Story,” I felt that the sentiments expressed could well be representative of our own today. In many ways, we are still struggling to articulate emotions that have been buried by fear and prioritized below the pressing need to do well. We may have moved on from the kampongs and hard labour of the past, but we are no less obsessed with the race to catch up and survive economically. During the post-lecture discussion, Gwee asked, “After the Golden Age, what’s next for Singapore?” and someone shared that she felt there is a certain tiredness of progress today, progress that has been “too fast, too much, too long.” I could not help but agree with her, and it was interesting to hear the range of perspectives. The audience that day featured a good mix of young and old voices, and those who had lived through the 1960s talked about the excitement about progress. For them, they were “living a dream come true,” and milestones such as the completion of the first MRT station were widely celebrated.
It was striking to hear the difference in attitudes then and now, from excitement over the first MRT to the common complaints about transport in recent years. Yet, have we really grown up as a nation? Or has it mostly been our physical infrastructure that has matured and modernized? My own response would be that I think many people are still too caught up with surviving and doing well to pause and think, to articulate and debate. There is still the sense that social criticism is a waste of time, and that you risk being sued for saying the wrong thing. Recent events like Roy Ngerng’s challenge to PM Lee over CPF money is to me an instance of protest gone wrong. Apart from the fact that he was sued by PM Lee, I think a portion of Singaporeans are more embarrassed than heartened by Roy’s behaviour. I could not decide which side I stood on, but a blog entry I came across resolved that for me (http://sudhirtv.com/2014/06/24/oh-roy-my-heart-goes-out-to-you/). The writer argued that with a dearth of information available, it is difficult to comment on many issues without saying the wrong thing. The fear of speaking on a topic one is not familiar with may compound the fear of speaking out on issues in Singapore today. With such examples, it is little wonder that till today, few are willing to say what they truly think about government and society, even in poems.