Cheryl Marie Cordeiro

Singapore literature, displayed at the Singapore booth at Gothenburg’s annual Bookfair, 2009.
Photos © Jan-Erik Nilsson and Cheryl M. Cordeiro for CMC, 2009

Even with new publishing spaces and mediums available on the internet with e-journals, online magazines, webpages and blogs, books in print continue to remain a stable platform for voices to be heard. It seemed that this year’s annual Gothenburg Bookfair was just as busy and electric in atmosphere as previous years. In fact, this years visit went straight to my heart. In the maze of exhibition stalls – some piled with books from the ground up so as to obscure vision – was a cozy and neat, red and white walled unit labeled, Singapore Literature. Even its colours reminded me of home and I was completely drawn to this year’s event as such, focusing my attention on the International Square, a hall dedicated to international authors.

The Singapore Literature booth, at the Göteborg Bokmässan 2009, with Alvin Pang, Editor of ETHOS journal and Henrik C Enbohm, International Secretary of the Swedish Writers’ Union.

Amongst the Singapore representatives were those both from the writing and publishing fields, including illustrators who make the reads more interesting, were there to share insights into Singapore’s literary world.

I went home that day naturally, with a handful of books from the Singapore booth. I had Russel Wong’s book on his photography, pictures collected from several of his portfolio, a must-have Singapore cookbook by Wendy Hutton, who’s known as the Queen of Asian cooking and whose cookbook made me long to be in the presence of a hawker center in Singapore and a poetic compilation of works by Edwin Thumboo, in both the English and Swedish languages.

The book, ’35 for Gothenburg’, by Edwin Thumboo has 35 selected poems, translated into Swedish alongside its version in English.

It was a moment of suspension in consciousness when I held the book, 35 for Gothenburg in my hands, a tangent déjà vu. The locations of the icons featured on the front cover were so familiar to me that it was difficult at first, to register that they were in print, in the form of a book cover.

Emeritus Professor Edwin Thumboo, from the National University of Singapore, together with Henrik C Enbohm, giving a presentation at the International Square of the Gothenburg Book fair, 2009.

The Singapore-Swedish literary effort is viewed in light of the current expanding economic ties between Sweden and Southeast-Asia (and perhaps also Asia at large). For many Europeans, Singapore is ‘Asia Lite’, a gateway to Asia and a handful of its key cultures. As Pär Ahlberger, the Swedish Ambassador to Singapore said in the foreword of the book, this effort was:

For Swedes… to reach an even better understanding of Singapore, its people, its history and its culture…To learn more about Singapore is to learn more about Asia

A moment’s allowance in the busy schedule: Professor Thumboo was scheduled for London after this presentation session.

An absolute favourite poem of mine from 35 for Gothenburg is entitled Island or Ö. It resonates the current themes of globalization, of expanding trade between the Nordic countries and Southeast-Asia, of which Singapore and Gothenburg find their place and roles as busy harbours, not just ports of call for long journeys by sea but economic points of exchange.

In the poem, is a certain juxtaposition of time that spans from the 18th century Swedish East India Gotheborg ships that rounded the Malayan Peninsula on their way to China, to modern sea vessels; from when Singapore was naturally idyllic to the its current city pounding heartbeat. The Swedish translation of the poem, by HC Enbohm, will follow:

Island
Once
There was a quiet island,
With a name.
You must believe me
When I say that sunlight,
Impure but beautiful,
Brokek upon the bay, silvered
The unrepentant, burning noon.

There were persons in this place.
Too young to know the sea,
Aminah cried,
Harun, who followed crab and tide
Ambitiously, learnt
To keep the spray out of his eyes.
Their father in his bid
To make a proper life,
Lived the way his father did.

Mangrove and palm
Unfold in brittle shades of green.
Houses on stilts, boats drawn up
The sand, the makeshift pier, village shop,
Smoke from kitchen fires,
All frame a picture.

Romantic. Nostalgic.

But images change.

Nearby hills are pushed into the sea.
Tractors roar, lorries thrive
Till the ochre of the land
Scopped out day and night
Crept upon the sand

Aminah, Harun now reside in flats,
Go to school while father
Learns a trade.

Along Shipyard Road,
Not far from Bird Park,
A new song in the air:
Cranes and gantries rise;
Dynamo and diesel hum.
Men in overalls and helmets
Wield machines, consulting plans.

A welder’s torch explodes
Into a rush of stars;
Rivets are hammered home till
Hulls of steel emerge.
Sophisticated, self-propelled,
The towering drillers look attractive:
This one bound for Norway;
The one before works by Antarctica.

In time images of power,
Our emergent selves,
Will be familiar
As, first, the body learns
This other song.

Ö
Det var
en gång en fridfull ö,
med ett namn.
Ni måste tro mig
när jag säger att solljuset,
fläckat men intagande,
steg över bukten och strödde silver
från sitt obevekligt heta zenit.

Det fanns människor på denna plats.
För unga för att minnas havet,
klagade Aminah;
Harun, som ingående studerade krabbor
och tidvatten, hade lärt
att undvika vattenstänk i ögonen.
Deras far som i ett försök
att skapa en drägligare tillvaro
följde i sin egen fars fotspår

Mangrove och palmer
spricker ut i skira skuggor av grönt.
Hus på pålar, uppdragna båtar
på stränderna, den rangliga landgången, lanthandeln,
kökseldars rök,
bidrar alla till bilden.

Romantiskt. Nostalgiskt.

Men bilder förändras.

Närbelägna kullar knuffas ut i havet.
Traktorer dånar, lastbilar frodas
tills allt, dag som natt,
jord och strand,
färgats med ockra.

Aminah och Harun bor nu i lägenhet,
går i skolan medan far
lär sig ett yrke.

Längs Shipyard Road,
inte långt ifrån Bird Park,
far en ny sång över himlen:
kranar och traverser reser sig;
generatorstön och dieselstånk.
Män i overaller och hjälmar
grävmaskiner, planritningar.

En svetslåga slår ut
i en kaskad av stjärnor;
bultar drives till botten och blottar
blänkande höljen av stål.
Eleganta, självgående,
drar de resliga borrtornen till sig ögonen:
det här ska vidare till Norge;
det förra borrar ovan för Antarktis.

Tids nog känner vi igen oss,
våra framväxande jag,
i maktutövandets bilder,
så snart kroppen lärt sig
denna nya sång.

One of several voices for Singapore, poet, writer and editor Alvin Pang, at the annual Gothenburg Bookfair.

I think the literary front is a powerful arena in which consciousness raising can be achieved, and in so doing, connecting issues in adjacent fields such as that of business, commerce, politics, can be further explored.

Change is never an easy process. Yet, the inevitable is also that which invokes a certain sense of sentimentality and nostalgia. Just as Singapore laments its days as a haven for coral reefs, in a more languid time, Swedes today are quite fervently moved by the impending and potential sale of Volvo Cars (already previously bought over by Ford) to China’s Geely. The question of identity, branding and the benefits to Sweden are all issues of concern.

Since I have a bit of my heart at both places I am happy every time I see instances where the two countries of Sweden and Singapore find common ground, be it in trade, in literature or in food festivals. Personally I believe and hope this could be expanded into all walks of life, political and economical, in academics, management as well as others. Just as a Singaporean can learn to like surströmming, I am sure Swedes would learn to love durians if given a chance to explore?