Highly globalized country and connected city.
The literature of Singapore comprises of literary works by Singaporeans in any of the country’s four main languages: english, chinese, malay, and tamil.
The literature of Singapore is viewed as a distinct body of literature portraying various aspects of Singapore society and forms a significant part of the culture of Singapore. A number of Singaporean writers such as Tan SweiHian and KuoPao Kun have contributed in more than one language.
Singaporean Poetry
Singaporean literature in English started with the Strait-born Chinese community in the colonial era.Singaporean literature was published as early as the 1830s.
The first notable Singaporean work of poetry in English is possibly F.M.S.R., a prastiche of T.S. Eliot by Francis P. Ng, published in 1935. This was followed by Wang Gungwu’sPulse in 1950.
With the independence of Singapore in 1965, a new wave of Singapore writing emerged, led by Edwin Thumboo, Arthur Yap, Robert Yeo, GohPoh Seng, Lee Tzu Peng and Chandran Nair.
It is telling that many critical essays on Singapore literature named Thumboo’s generation, rightly or wrongly, as the first generation of Singapore writers. they believe that poetry is the predominant mode of expression.
There were varying levels of activity in succeeding decades, with poets in the late 1980s and 1990s.
In the late 1990s, English in Singapore found a new momentum with a whole new generation of poets born around or after 1965 now actively and publishing, not only in Singapore but also internationally.
Local small presses such as First fruit and Ethos Books have been actively promoting the works of new wave of poets.
The poetry of this younger generation is often politically aware, transnational and cosmopolitan, yet frequently presents their intensely focused, self-questioning and highly individualized perspective of Singaporean life, society, and culture. And some poets have been labeled Confessional for their personalized writing.
Singaporean Fiction
Fiction writing in English did not start in earnest until after independence. Short stories flourished as a literary form, the novel arrived much later.
Goh Poh Seng remains a pioneer in writing novels well before many of the later generation, with titles like If We Dream Too Long (1972) – widely recognised as the first true Singaporean novel – and A Dance of Moths (1995).
Beginning as a short story writer, Penang-born Catherine Lim has been Singapore's most widely read author, thanks partly to her first two books of short stories, Little Ironies: Stories of Singapore (1978) and Or Else, The Lightning God and Other Stories (1980). These two books were incorporated as texts for the GCE 'O' Levels. Lim's themes of Asian male chauvinistic gender-dominance mark her as a distant cousin to Asian-American writers such as Amy Tan.
Singaporean Drama
Drama in English found expression in Goh Poh Seng, who was also a notable poet and novelist, in Robert Yeo, author of 6 plays, and in KuoPao Kun, who also wrote in Chinese, sometimes translating his works into English.
The late Kuo was a vital force in the local theatre renaissance in the 1980s and 1990s. He was the artistic director of The Substation for many years. Some of his plays, like The Coffin is Too Big for the Hole (1984) and Lao Jiu (1990), have been now considered classics.
Stella Kon gained international fame with her now-famous play Emily of Emerald Hill: a monologue. About an ageing Peranakan matriarch, it has been produced in Scotland, Malaysia and Australia. The sole character has been played by men as well as women
Singaporean Children Lit.
Children's literature in Singapore has gained momentum in recent years due to increased interest in the genre generated by the First Time Writers and Illustrators Initiative
which discovered acclaimed writers such as *Adeline Foo The Diary of Amos Lee, *JinPyn The Elephant and the Tree, and *Emily Lim Prince Bear and Pauper Bear.*Jessie Wee, one of the pioneers of children's literature, rereleased her popular Mooty Mouse series with Marshall Cavendish in 2009.
According to the National Library Board, other prominent and prolific children's authors include Patricia Maria Tan, Chia Hearn Chek, Ho MinFong and Bessie Chua.
SOME OF GREAT LITERARY WORKS IN SINGAPORE
“THE OLD MAN, HIS SON, AND THEIR BIKE”
M. Ibrahim (Singapore)
There was once a poor old Malay,
One you have never seen the like,
Who sadly told his son one day,
“Son, we have to sell our bike.”
So to the nearest town they went,
The old man on the bike astride;
His son, very soon feeling spent,
Walked slowly on his side.
They passed two men on their way,
Two old buddies having a talk,
One was heard to distinctly say,
“He makes the young fellow walk,”
On hearing this old man said,
“I think, my son, they do not like
To see me riding, I’m afraid,
You had better ride the bike.”
Two more men later they met,
They both seemed at the boy to gawk,
Said one, “See that strong, selfish lad,
He makes the old man walk”
The old man then said with a frown,
“Whatever we do, my son, seems wrong,
So let both of us walk to town;
We can push the bike along.”
Two more men then came into view,
One of them, as he stepped aside;
Said, “Look, how foolish are those two,
Walking, when they both could ride.”
The old man winced at what he heard,
And irritably said, “Indeed!”
His anger had now been stirred;
“Let’s both ride our iron steed.”
The rusty bike wasn’t really fit,
Fir it hadn’t been well kept of late;
The bike broke, the tires went flat;
They were both thrown to the ground!
Alas, alack, what noise was that?
They both heard a snapping sound,
The bike broke, the tires went flat,
They were both thrown to the ground!
Now, folk, you all know the moral
Of this quite short and simple tale;
That if you try to please others,
To please yourself, you will fail
TO GRANDMOTHER BY LIN ZIWEI
I had so many things to say
to you, but my tongue always
stumbled over itself, Mandarin
twisting pink flesh into elaborate
knots(like those you used to tie). I could never mould
those words elegantly enough, they always
came out choppy and choked,
stuck at the back of my head
like clay under my fingernails.
they're still here all-those
overdue apologies, tardy words
of concern and affcetion,resting
quietly, like leaves in the sun,
their delicate scent drifting and
gently pervading the far corners
of my mind.
Comentarios