THE SOVEREIGN GARDEN OF THE HEART: Poetry & Politics in Singapore Today
- Kirpal Singh, Singapore Management University, Singapore
I want to begin by telling a short story. About a week ago my wife and I were honoured to be invited to the Golden Wedding Anniversary celebrations of a very very special couple -the Bakers. Prof Maurice Baker was Head of the English Department at the University when I was a student there and afterwards he served, for quite a few years, as Singapores Ambassador to the Philippines. Hence the connections. Prof Baker -and later his student Edwin Thumboo -were responsible for shaping the sensibility, shall we say? -of the Universitys Literature programme for generations. Prof Baker, the perfect gentleman, was tutored mainly in the mainstream of English Literature but had the courage and the wisdom to allow colleagues to expand their horizons to include the teaching and study of literatures outside of the Anglo-American orbit. Professor Thumboo went further, stating that in contemporary terms English literature should, really, mean literature in English. At the celebratory dinner, Prof Thumboo, himself the doyen of Singapores literary scene, read a beautiful poem dedicated to the happy couple and in this poem he used the phrase which gives my Paper its title: the sovereign garden of the heart.
I have taken the liberty of using this occasion to raise what I think are a few pertinent issues relating to the current position of poetry (and literature generally) in Singapore. If I have also added politics it is because I believe, like Aristotle, that almost everything in a polis revolves around its organizational modality. Hence it is hard, in the final analysis, to separate politics from poetry. Maybe, incidentally, Plato was well advised to express caution about poets - they can be - and often have proved to be - troublesome!
Once upon a time poets and those who loved poetry did, I think, believe in the sovereign garden of the heart, where presumably, beautiful flowers grow, even if wild. Those old and respected virtues such as compassion, kindness, generosity, goodness, found a nurturing space and people grew up to value these virtues. Since poetry came from the heart, albeit tempered by the cunning of the head, lovers and writers of poetry were strongly bonded. Poets gave a new dimension to the communitys sensibility and the community responded by having a special place for the poets!
I wonder whether today poets and readers care about the sovereign garden of the heart. Short of asking whether the heart in question is the human heart, most might find the entire preoccupation a waste of time. The reason why I say this is because it seems to become increasingly obvious that today both poets and readers seem to have very little appreciation, understanding and even, perhaps, use of what we fondly call metaphor. Maybe it is I who needs to be educated in the new metaphoric language of current poetic and critical discourse but unless I am severely mistaken, there is, without doubt, an impoverishment of metaphor in todays world of poetry, especially in Singapore. I say this fully aware that my younger poet-friends might take me seriously to task but I find much of the poetry written these days to be literal and meant to be read literally. I wonder if this is the case with poetry in other countries as well; I wonder whether it is not just a Singaporean problem but a contemporary problem, introduced primarily by the widespread use of the electronic media which for some reason is not as metaphor-friendly as the old radio, for instance. On the other hand, who am I to even state this so bluntly since the mouse is one of those most widely-used words in all PC and internet discourse! Whether or not we understand this literalness to be associated with the fact that reality today leaves little room for the metaphoric imagination is a matter of personal opinion. What does seem clear is that language is no longer as excitingly exploited as it used to be even, say, about twenty years ago. If Thumboo can still use the sovereign garden of the heart and therefore link feelings and emotions which go back, via metaphor, to at least Andrew Marvell, then I believe I am right. One of Singapores brightest young poets puts it simply:
My mobile phone generation
In contact but beyond reach…
(Umej Bhatia, The @ Generation)
This poem, which weaves a tapestry of things and modes of conduct chiefly linked to the yuppies, ends on a frightening note:
My shopping, job-hopping, clubbing, hot-mailing
Futures-trading, techno, web-surfing @ nowhere generation
Could be dying of the wrong lifestyle
But will wear the right brand to the fat-free end.
I dont know what to make of this except to say I am right: todays Singapore poets are making their literal points literally. Maybe it is because the gap between them and the world of yesterday is just too large to incorporate those modes of being which metaphor encourages; modes, essentially, of deep reflection and cogitation. The awareness is there but it is conveyed in basic terms, terms easily and immediately understood and digested, leaving little scope for real involvement and engagement. One engages, therefore, NOT with the language of the poem, but with its point, its message. From the romantic ideals of facial gardens and silvery teeth we now get lines like * I am a minute man and you are a time-bomb*…. well, the imagination works in miraculous ways but poetry surely, must, also be tantalizing at the level of the intellect as it is at the level of plain literacy!
There are several related issues to consider as well in order to discuss meaningfully the sovereign garden of the heart in respect of poetrys position in the hustle and bustle of the metropolis which is Singapore. More and more schools are no longer offering literature as a subject which means less and less students are getting exposure to poetry and poems. Their contact with poetry therefore is mainly through the music lyrics they hear over the airwaves or some version of poetry they may come across in the course of their wild surfing of the net! This is a most serious problem and not one which the pundits of literature are prepared to fight for; well, not in any significant way. Indeed, the officials of the Ministry of Education have sometimes chided me for bringing this knotty issue up because, as they say, your bosses have not argued for literature at all…! In a society where bosses want to get promoted and remain safe (whether these be Deans, Heads of Departments, Principals, Subject Co-ordinators, Ministry of Education officials, etc) it is easy enough to understand why they wouldnt want to go against the grain. But then, it is hard to reconcile the fact that on the one hand these very people mouth jewels of wisdom about the importance of wide reading especially of fiction and poetry, and on the other sitting comfortable and looking sideways while literature gets a frontal kick-out! There is notional teaching of literature for two years at Secondary 1 and 2 levels but even here frequently the time is used to teach English language rather than literature, thus ensuring that very few students grow up with literature in their veins. And poetry, I believe, has to be in our veins, otherwise it is useless, it has no effect on the larger beings we are, we become. In every culture where poetry ahs flourished or where it still flourishes, there has been passion governing the beings of those who write it and even those who read it and teach it. Teach it…yes, because for most of us it is in and through the school experience that we came into contact with poetry. It therefore behooves us to ensure that those responsible for the school curricula are singled out for the responsibility and duty of making sure that poetry remains in the school syllabus in an important and significant way.
I should have thought that the above would be obvious, and even more so after the Sept 11 tragedy. Literature generally but poetry especially (because poetry is quick to read and hear) is one of the major cementing influences across cultures. Sometimes we dont even need to know the language of poetry because it speaks to us through its rhythms and its cadences, its tones and its inflexions. Throughout the world, poets and poetry can do a lot to heal all the wounds which have been inflicted, but only if this role is recognized and accorded its due status. I say this openly because in Singapore we are still fighting about this and the more we ourselves fight about the nature and role of poetry the more fragmented the house of poetry becomes and the more the power-brokers view us with some degree of amused skepticism. I wonder what the situation is in the other countries assembled here. I wonder if in each of your countries literature and poetry enjoys a clear and recognized status, in schools, colleges and universities, in the public domain.
One of the reasons why poetry suffers in Singapore is, I am told, because there re not enough teachers trained to teach it properly. Whatever teaching poetry properly implies one thing is clear: excuse after excuse, reason after reason can be shored but unless the truth hits home - that a community without poetry is a community without passion, without soul -it is pointless to even begin to ask for explanations. Our teachers, those who are supposedly trained, are trained in different traditions of poetry; particularly in English poetry and these teachers tend to look down upon our own poetry. They are a BIG influence and they make sure that our own literature, our own poetry, does not reach any degree of acceptance. How is this done? Simple: by arguing that the quality is bad, not up to standard. When pushed by someone like me, the answer is always, why dont we do a survey and see what the majority opinion is. And, alas, the majority opinion, because it is an opinion derived from their teaching influences, of course, endorses what they say -that Singapore poetry is somehow not quite as good as the poetry which comes from the UK or from America.
So we do ourselves a disservice for which we can blame ourselves. There are Poetry Readings in Singapore galore; almost every other week someone somewhere is organizing a Reading or giving a Reading…but to what purpose? So I am told in time all will be well, we will have wonderful poetry and everyone will be happy. I have heard this for over thirty years now, and I have become, personally, a little resigned to the fact that in the end a nation deserves the poets and poetry it gets. If we dont value something, that somethings real value will never become ours. In Singapore the fragmented nature of the poetry fraternity aids and abets this incapacity for the people to give poetry the full respect and recognition it deserves. We tried it on our MRT (our train system, both underground and above-ground): we thought wed imitate the UK Poems On The Underground. We did. We went out of our way to get big money to mount posters of poems, etc. We set up committees to pick poems especially for this, we had numerous meetings to make sure the poems we chose were politically and otherwise correct. Alas, in the final analysis, people did not seem to read them or those who read them did not seem pleased or very welcoming. Now we dont have these poems on our trains. Has anyone protested about this? No. So I ask myself, what does this say about poetry in Singapore today?
Very regrettably I have to do what my daughters tell me is a reality-check; and this informs me that very few Singaporeans are truly bothered by poets and poetry. Apart from the reasons outlined above, there are some other relevant considerations: people dont have the luxury of time to read poems, someone told me. We live very high-pressured lives and so time is a premium. There are very few outlets for poets so few Singaporeans directly come into contact with our poets. Most bookshops dont carry poetry titles and when they do these are in remote shelves or from remote cultures and countries! Book distribution, book production, book reviewing, book exposure become major problems in the overall jigsaw and the various pieces just dont seem to fit. And very few individuals are prepared or ready to even try and fit the puzzle because we all have our own things to do!
And yet, for all of the above, there is a strong emergent voice in contemporary Singapore poetry. But this strength is undermined by its uncertain direction, by its lack of any cogent or coherent sense of itself. True, poetry is everywhere subject to strange standards but the lack of some clearly spelt out criteria for evaluation leads to a chaotic scramble for poetic space. So everyone who wants to be a poet becomes a poet and produces a book of poems. Fair enough. Even better, every book produced adds to the variety of poetry available. But there is dilution of the real and the significant. Decision-makers, not knowing where to look for the really good, forget poetry altogether and everyone ends up losers! Especially this strong emergent voice.
The remedies, the answers for the various problems and difficulties outlined above are implicit in what ahs been stated. It is clear to me that Singapore needs to take serious stock of itself and ask: where are our poets going? I believe the poets themselves must raise and discuss this in a sustained way without fear or favour because there IS a lot of discussion but it all seems tempered with biased viewpoints. While prejudice is almost an innate source of poetic expression, it need not be a natural overlay of all poetic discourse. Poets and poetry needs a strong re-kindling at all levels; from the household cradle to the school swing to the college dormitory to the universities business schools - everyone needs to know that poetry is not anyone special possession…. it belongs to all of us for, in the end, we all make it. Some of us might remember that meeting between the Hollywood persona of the great Latin American poet whose friend uses his poems to get girlfriends in the film THE POSTMAN. The poet, Pablo Nweruda, tells his friend that he cant just take the poems, claim they are written by him and give them to the women. To which accusation the friend replies, Poetry does not belong to those who write it. It belongs to those who need it. Yes, perhaps. We need poetry, but we also all need the poets who write it. And we are all, therefore, responsible for the success and survival of both the poets and the poetry. Thank you.