Wednesday, 7 May 2014

More to Read on Huzir Sulaiman (ATOMIC JAYA)




                                                             Prodigious playwright/director/actor  Huzir Sulaiman
Okay, there were THREE members of the audience who made a major show of not enjoying one of the finest satires I’ve seen staged anywhere. Someone whispered that they were from City Hall, there to monitor the performance for offensive, subversive, or pornographic content. After the recent fiasco over its ill-advised attempt to ban the Instant Café Theatre from the city of KL (thanks, Mr Mayor, for speaking out on behalf of good sense and reversing the ban; I insert a round of applause for that silver lining on an inquisitorial dark cloud), it’s understandable that City Hall would be feeling defensive.

Keeping sewers clean, streets swept, and petty traders on their toes isn’t quite as glamorous or exciting as intimidating the fancy-talking faggoty arty-farty fringe. However, what one person labels “offensive” another calls “hilariously honest.” You have to really hate how you look to object so strenuously to your own reflection. Art’s primary function is to reflect our lives. Everyone ought to know that. Certain artistic approaches may work more like distorting mirrors but being able to laugh at your own comical aspects means your ego is healthy and comfortable with itself.
Claire Wong as Mary Yuen,
Huzir Sulaiman as General Zulkifli
All true art is subversive, reclaiming for the individual the power the State constantly attempts to steal. Everyone knows that if art is subservient rather than subversive, most likely it’s mere corporate propaganda. And in response to the question of what constitutes “pornography,” all I can say is: “Honi soit qui mal y pense.” Evil to whomsoever thinks evil.
Enough! We won’t allow City Hall to steal the show, no matter how badly it wants in on the limelight. I want this to pass as a review, not just a rave. So how did I like Atomic Jaya’s new incarnation?
Enormously! The original version was more or less a 14-character monodrama: a litmus test of any actor’s ability, agility and nerve, sort of like tightrope-crossing Niagara Falls on a unicycle. This Checkpoint Theatre production features Claire Wong and Huzir Sulaiman on a breezy tandem ride through Bolehland – with crisp digital images meticulously crafted by director Casey Lim and flashed on a paper screen as a kinetic backdrop (the state-of-the-art, high-resolution Panasonic projector produced startlingly clear images). It also has Fahmi Fadzil playing a double rôle as a canteen makcik and patriotic singer.
While the original version was supercharged with manic intensity and a stark, dark surrealism, this new production heightens and broadens the comedy, thus increasing its entertainment value without detracting from the script’s satirical incisiveness. And in any case it’s doubly pleasurable to watch two consummate performers tackle the main characters instead of one.
What gives Atomic Jaya a solid core of substance beyond the guffaws, sniggers and belly laughs is the play’s underlying seriousness as anthropological commentary. The fact that it opened in Kuala Lumpur on August 6th – on the 58th anniversary of Hiroshima, when 80,000 human lives were destroyed by an atomic bomb dropped by the United States Air Force, followed by another over Nagasaki three days later which decimated horrific thousands more – was a grim reminder to us all that we’re still living under a nuclear sword of Damocles (not “umbrella” as some may pretend).
The mind-boggling insanity of squandering trillions on an ongoing program of Mutual Assured Destruction – instead of redirecting every available resource towards the alleviation of suffering caused by simple lack – has its roots in the malignant human ego when it takes on exaggerated nationalistic proportions. Can the laser surgery of sharp-tongued humor excise the tumor of ruinous pride and megalomaniacal ambition.
Explosive performance
Perhaps not, but weapons-grade satire produces a chain reaction of transcendental consciousness among those it infects with despair-banishing mirth. And even the deadliest strain of militant pomposity cannot withstand well-aimed ridicule, though it will try its damnedest to outlaw and suppress it.
On the strength of the three or four plays (and one short film, That Historical Feeling by the prolific Huzir Sulaiman) in which I’ve seen Claire Wong act, I’d place her amongst the top ranks in both hemispheres. The precision, sensitivity and vitality she infuses into each rôle makes her – like Jo Kukathas, who created the original characterizations – an extraordinary shapeshifter.
Who can forget her Dr Saiful from UKM (“Oh, you are discussing philosophy. Very interesting. For example, ‘Men are from Besut, Women are from Dungun.’ I also like philosophy.”)? Or her thumb-twiddling malapropic minister (“Why should we import the highly enriched Iranian? We already buy the Persian carpet and the Persian cat from the Iranian so they become highly enriched at our expense.”)?
Claire Wong, consummate shapeshifter
In two seconds flat she visibly gained 200 pounds as former US Secretary of State Madeleine Albright: “We have the might, and we have the right, and we will not hesitate to fight for the right to our might, and our might alone. Ask not what your country can do for you; rather, ask what our country can do to your country.”
But as nuclear physicist Dr Mary Yuen, Claire Wong was 100% the real McCoy. No problem passing her off as a Chinese Catholic girl from Ipoh who just happened to idolize Lord Rutherford, Niels Bohr, Erwin Schrödinger, Max Planck, Albert Einstein, and the entire subatomic pantheon.
Huzir Sulaiman was in top comic form as General Zulkifli (with his classic Napoleon Complex and unforgettable lines like, “I want to get to the bottom of this matter. Until the bottom is reached, the top cannot be happy.”); and the excitable Delhi Polytechnic graduate, Dr Ramachandran (“If you vant to take yumbrage, make sure this taking of yumbrage is correct and prahper. Yumbrage simply cannot be taken at vhim or vhimsy. You vill vaste the yumbrage.”)
He had a spot of trouble getting an exact fix on the extremely sleazy Mr Bala, and his Otto (the low-grade European) could have been further fine-tuned; but he outdid himself as a whole stream of newsreaders from the BBC, CNN and RTM – and as a police officer addressing a group of protestors (all 7 of them) with a loudhailer: “This is an illegal assembly. I order you to disperse. This is your first warning. Tangkap mereka semua.” An immortal characterization in only four lines.
Noraini, the canteen operator at Syarikat Perniagaan Atomic Jaya Sdn Bhd, was played in drag by Fahmi Fadzil who turned in a laudably restrained performance. Fahmi also did a superb job as a nattily besongkoked patriotic song-rendering robot, as instant palm trees waved in the electronically generated background.
Director Casey Lim’s wizardry with digital design is matched by a fine intuition for injecting just the right symbolism with almost subliminal subtlety. The choice of a solitary hibiscus flower (Malaysia’s national emblem) as central motif was an inspired one. Closeups of the stamen evoked understated phallic imagery and mimicked the mushroom cloud that would later dominate the entire backdrop with chilling effect. From nationalistic egocentricity to testosteronal displays of potency – just by changing camera angles on a hibiscus flower – pretty neat!
When all the elements of a play work together so efficiently (and with such apparent effortlessness) to produce an aesthetically satisfying synergetic gestalt, we are reminded that Creation is infinitely wise and perpetually self-perfecting. So what if the country or even the whole goddamn planet is temporarily in the hands of Sharkey and his perception-challenged henchmen?  The vision quest only makes sense and carries any value if it bears the ring of truth – and Huzir Sulaiman’s Atomic Jaya rings true for me. Go see it if you haven’t. And even if you have, go see it again.

sources :http://blogcritics.org/theathre

Point About Huzir Sulaiman

Huzir Sulaiman (born in 1973) is a Malaysian actor, director and writer. One of Malaysia's leading dramatists, acclaimed for his vibrant, inventive use of language and incisive insight into human behaviour in general and the Asian psyche in particular. His plays, often charged with dark humour, political satire, and surrealistic twists, have won numerous awardsand international recognition. He currently lives in Singapore.
His father is Haji Sulaiman Abdullah, who was born G. Srinivasan Iyer, a Tamil Brahmin who later converted to Islam. Sulaiman is a veteran lawyer who served as Malaysian Bar Council president. His mother is Hajjah Mehrun Siraj, who has served as a professor, lawyer, consultant for United Nations agencies, NGO activists and a Commissioner with the Human Rights Commission of Malaysia.
For a short time in the early part of this decade, he hosted an afternoon talk show on WOW FM, a now-defunct Malaysian radio station.
He is currently married to Claire Wong, a Malaysia-born Singaporean stage actress.

He is best known for his works "Atomic Jaya", "The Smell of Language", "Hip-Hopera" the Musical, "Notes on Life and Love and Painting", "Election Day", "Those Four Sisters Fernandez", "Occupation" and "Whatever That Is" which have been published in his collection of "Eight Plays" by Silverfish Books. He also contributes articles to the The Star.

Antares is radioactivated yet again by Huzir Sulaiman’s masterpiece, ATOMIC JAYA
Since March 1998 when Atomic Jaya first opened at the original Actors Studio Theatre (now reclaimed by the primordial ooze), too many things have gone badly for the world. So when something bucks the global trend of failure, destruction and disaster – when something goes very well indeed – it’s a call for huge celebration and rejoicing.
A sure sign that something is going very well indeed is when you see nothing but cheerful faces leaving their seats at intermission, and there are far more grins than frowns at the end of the show.

Sunday, 30 March 2014

Literary Works By Lloyd Fernando


Lloyd Fernando's Published Works










Novels  

Fernando, Lloyd. Scorpion Orchid. Kuala Lumpur: Heinemann, 1976. Singapore: Times Books, 1992.  
Fernando, Lloyd. Green is the Colour. Singapore: Landmark Books, 1993. Kuala Lumpur: Silverfish Books, 2004.  

Play  
Fernando, Lloyd. “Scorpion Orchid, the Play.” Petals of Hibiscus: A Representative Anthology of Malaysian Literature in English. Ed. Mohammad A. Quayum et al. Kuala Lumpur: Pearson Education, 2003.  

Short Story  
Fernando, Lloyd. “Surja Singh.” The Merlion and the Hibiscus: Contemporary Short Stories from Singapore and Malaysia. Ed. Mukherjee, Dipika, Kirpal Singh and Mohammad A. Quayum. New Delhi: Penguin Books, 2002.  

Edited Anthologies  
Fernando, Lloyd, ed. Malaysian Poetry in English. Kuala Lumpur: English Department, University of Malaya, 1966.  
Fernando, Lloyd. ed. Twenty-Two Malaysian Stories: An Anthology of Writing in English. Kuala Lumpur: Heinemann Educational Books (Asia), 1968. Petaling Jaya, Selangor: Maya Press, 2005.  
Fernando, Lloyd, ed. New Drama One. Kuala Lumpur: Oxford University Press, 1972.  
Fernando, Lloyd, ed. New Drama Two. Kuala Lumpur: Oxford University Press, 1972.  
Fernando, Lloyd, ed. Malaysian Short Stories. Kuala Lumpur: Heinemann Educational Books (Asia),1981. Petaling Jaya, Selangor: Maya Press, 2005.  

Literary Criticism  
Fernando, Lloyd. “New Women” in Late Victorian Fiction. University Park, PA:Pennsylvania State University Press, 1977.  
Fernando, Lloyd. Cultures in Conflict. Singapore: Graham Brash, 1986. 


SOURCES : 
Fernando, Lloyd. Green is The Colour.Kuala Lumpur: Silverfish Books,2004.Print.

Bottom of Form
Bottom of Form


Summary of Scorpion Orchid by Lloyd Fernando






The days of laughter ,of sharing ,of blunt comradeship-had they ever been? They been ,they had,Tok Said,he cried.We loved each other like brothers....
     Like children..
     No,it's not true.We believed.'

       Sabran,Santi,Guan Kheng and Peter - four young men united by the bonds of friendship,brought together in the uniquely multicultural society of Singapore.About graduate from university ,they are caught in political upheaveals of the 1950.These are uncertain times:still recovering from the Japanese Occupation,Singapore is now ready to fight for Independence from the British.
      As they watch their countrymen confront each other,tearing the country apart ,they face up to reality of their multicultural society .Against a backdrop of violence and hatred ,each embarks on an arduous journey of self discovery ,to reconcile deep -seated cultures and traditions with a new emerging sociery.In their quest for their true selves ,the bonds of their young manhood are sorely tired.
     Written in a dynamic and evocative style,Scorpion Orchid takes us back to those tumultuos days in early 50s when a nation was trying to assert its identity.

'Fernando's text energizes [Lord] Jim's story ,providing the "other words" that Jim lacked, and thereby paving the way for a more optimistic for intercultural contacts.' (-R.Kurtz in Conradiana)

Source : Fernando,Lloyd.Scorpion Orchid.Singapore,Kuala Lumpur ;Times BooksInternational,                                        1992.Print .
  

MORE TO ADD FOR ''GREEN IS THE COLOUR" by LLOYD FERNANDO










Llyod Fernando’s second novel ,Green is The Colour ,completed almost two decades after his first novel,Scorpion Orchid In Green is the colour,fresh violence erupts in the racial riots in Malaysia (13 May 2013).Again, a set of multi-racial characters is used to develop the novels ideas.Yun Ming ,the Chinese who hasn’t been absorbed into the system as the government official is beginning to question the dominant discourse ,in particular ,ideas on unity which the authorities ate touting .Dahlan ,once his university mate and now a lawyer looks with contempt on Yun Ming’s afflication with the political powers.Dahlan himself tries to bait the conscience of the authorities by speaking out on the need for religious tolerance after the members of Chinese religious sect and their leader,Ti Shuang being arrested not because of any crime they commited but because they appear to authorities to be a threat to public security .Omar the second important Malay character ,fed up with what she deems the decandence of Western ways which have tarnished the race, seeks return to spiritual protection of fundamentalist Islam. Important as these male characters are it seem to me that Fernando gives prominence to the woman character, Siti Sara.A large portion of the last segment of the novel is told in her first person narrative or seen through her concsiousness.
When the novel opens,the violence engendered by the riots has not ceased .Roadblocks necessitate detours tension is so high that is does not take much to ignite fresh eruptions. The country itself appears to have been divided into zones even as its multi-racial populace huddle into safe spaces.Against such a scenario,we are not surprised that some of the main characters (Siti Sara,Dahlan) undergo the horrors of rape,incarceration and torture.But over above this physical violence,is the more insidious violence that is done to men’s minds and their powers of clear and sincere expression. Language has been debased into counterfeit coinage in order to mask lies or purvey-half truths.as dahlan see it “I have lived all my life by words.I have seen make them do anything they wanted. That the evil I have fought.
No real connection between people can be possible when there is so much muddle and so little willingness to be clear.Fernando skillfully evokes an atmosphere of fear and suspicion in which many prefer to be listeners rather than risk voicing deeply –felt truths .These self-imposed silences are volubly filled by other voices such as that Wan Nuruddin,the secretary General in the Department of Unity,discoursing confidently on Confusion ethics and loyalty to the government.In the post May 13th ambience ,an artificial togetherness has been created to prevent more painful soul searching .Siti Sara admits that’s she develops and clung to the use of plural personal pronoun because it stirred feeling and love for her fellow citizens whether Malay,Chinese,Indian or Eurasian.In fact “ she had embraced a specious feeling  of togetherness with people in the abstract to cloak her unease,to disguise her semi-instinctive need not to know.”Like Yun Ming,she begins to see that official rhetoric merely covers  the facts that racial lines are clearly drawn so as to reinforce a sense of them” and “us”.in this context ,the shadowy figure of another women,Neemlambigai alias Fatimah binti Abdullah whose body neither her relatives nor the Religiuous Department would claim,haunts the reader as a sad reminder of intolerance and bigotry on all sides.Her family considers her an outsider because of her traversing of religious and racial barriers and the Religious Department will not accept her as being of the faith since there is no proof of conversion.Dahlan himself  discovers that it is not so easy to simply say, “ I don’t care for you beliefs,I will bury her.
The individual in such a society is constantly under surveillance .Nearly all the main characters have a sense of being watched. The leitmotif of eyes is skullfully manipulated  to reinforce an Orwellian sense that one’s every move known ,noted and filled away for future reference .Panglima,Political Secretary to the Minister Of Home Affairs ,whose basilisk stare unsettle even it mesmeries has files on everyone.Such an atmosphere breeds paranoia ,even madness.The more sensitive members of the society against the tension and strain having to choose one’s words before speaking.Dahlan we learn,had already had a nervous breakdown while still an undergraduate.Siti Sara,the returnee from American university ,who now lectures in a local institution  ,feels as if she is under the close scrutiny of collegues, students and even her own husband ,Omar who wants her to quit job,follow him to Tok Guru Bahauddin’s community in Jerangau. That her internal turmoil threatens to spill over is conveyed I various intances.looking at the flowers in the compound of her kampong to which she has returned to seek some respite she feels as if the hibiscus exploded in her field of vision …..One flower glowed so intensely bright that is seemed aflame and she gazed at it thunderstruck .She stood before a molten furnace door..It was inexpressibly wonderful to the point of being terrifying and steered away from the disquieting splendor,fearing madness.”
The novel‘s many scenes of violent sexual encounters.For example,between Yun Ming and Sara, and Sara and her husband show the desperate coming together of people  whose inner lives are intensely disturbed .Yun Ming violent possession of Sara is like an urgent effort to transcend loneliness and the consciousness that one has been pawn in the political games of the powers that be. Omar takes Siti Sara with unseeing eyes in narcissistic frenzy. A refusal to see other points of view propells him towards the confined space of Tok Guru Bahauddin ‘s domain where one can be away from the tarnishing contact with Western.

Source :

 Fernando,Lloyd.Green Is The Colour .Kuala Lumpur ; Silverfish Book , 2004.Print

SUMMARY OF GREEN IS THE COLOR (LLYOD FERNANDO)





                                                                           



       Lloyd Fernando's Green is the Colour is a very interesting novel. The country is still scarred by violence, vigilante groups roam the countryside, religious extremists set up camp in the hinterland, there are still sporadic outbreaks of fighting in the city, and everyone, all the time, is conscious of being watched. It comes as some surprise to find that the story is actually a contemporary (and very clever) reworking of a an episode from the Misa Melayu, an 18th century classic written by Raja Chulan.
      In this climate of unease, Fernando employs a multi-racial cast of characters. At the centre of the novel there's a core of four main characters, good (if idealistic) young people who cross the racial divide to become friends, and even fall in love.There's Dahlan, a young lawyer and activist who invites trouble by making impassioned speech on the subject of religious intolerance on the steps of a Malacca church; his friend from university days, Yun Ming, a civil servant working for the Ministry of Unity who seeks justice by working from within the government.
       The most fully realised character of the novel is Siti Sara, and much of the story is told from her viewpoint. A sociologist and academic, she's newly returned from studies in America where she found life much more straightforward, and trapped in a loveless marriage to Omar, a young man much influenced by the Iranian revolution who seeks purification by joining religious commune. The hungry passion between Yun Ming and Siti - almost bordering on violence at times and breaking both social and religious taboos - is very well depicted. (Dahlan falls in love with Gita, Sara's friend and colleague, and by the end of the novel has made an honest woman of her.)
      Like the others, Sara is struggling to make sense of events :Nobody could get may sixty-nine right, she thought. It was hopeless to pretend you could be objective about it. speaking even to someone close to you, you were careful for fear the person might unwittingly quote you to others. if a third person was present, it was worse, you spoke for the other person's benefit. If he was Malay you spoke one way, Chinese another, Indian another. even if he wasn't listening. in the end the spun tissue, like an unsightly scab, became your vision of what happened; the wound beneath continued to run pus.
     Although the novel is narrated from a third person viewpoint, it is curious that just one chapter is narrated by Sara's father, one of the minor characters, an elderly village imam and a man of great compassion and insight. This shift in narration works so well that I'm surprised Fernando did not make wider use of it.The novel has villain, of course, the unsavoury Pangalima, a senior officer in the Department of Unity and a man of uncertain racial lineage (he looks Malay, has adopted Malay culture, so of course, that's enough to make him kosher!). He has coveted Sara for years, and is determined to win her sexual favours at any cost.
The novel is not without significant weaknesses. It isn't exactly a rollicking read, and seems rather stilted - not least because there are just too many talking heads with much of the action taking place "offstage", including the rape at the end, which is really the climax of the whole novel.
     If we're interested in Yun Ming, Dahlan and Omar it is because of the contradictory ideas they espouse, but in each case their arguments could have been explored in greater depth and the characters themselves have been more fully fleshed.
      The plot of Green is the Colour never really holds together as well as it might but seems to be perpetually rushing off in new directions (as actually do the characters!) without fully exploring what is set up already. (I was particularly disappointed that we don't get to spend more time with Omar in the commune.)
But the strengths of the novel more than makes up for these lapses.
There's been a lot of talk about local authors not being brave enough to write about the great mustn't-be-talked-abouts of race, religion and politics in Malaysian society. Here's one author who was brave enough to do just that. (And look, hey, the sky didn't cave in!)
      Here's an author too who was able to think himself into the skin of people of different races - how many since have been able, or prepared, to make that imaginative leap?Here too is an author who is able to convincingly evoke the landscape of Malaysia both urban and rural in carefully chosen details.
Above all, though, one feels that here is an author who says what needed to be said. Heck, what still needs to be said!Here, he's using Dahlan as his mouthpiece, but the sentiments are clearly the author's own :
All of us must make amends. Each and every one of us has to make an individual effort. Words are not enough. We must show by individual actions that we will not tolerate bigotry and race hatred.

source : http://mliegreenisthecolor.blogspot.com

Get To Know More About Lloyd Fernando

                                          LLOYD FERNANDO BIOGRAPHY

                                                                     

Lloyd Fernando is a MALAYSIAN but he was born in Sri Lanka in 1926, and in 1938, at the age of twelve, he migrated to Singapore with his family. This early migration across the Indian Ocean had an enriching influence on Fernando, the writer and scholar, as it was to plant the seeds of a transcultural, diasporic imagination in him at an impressionable age. Life was moving along at a steady pace, and Fernando continued his schooling at St Patrick’s, but the Japanese occupation of Singapore from 1943 to 1945 dealt a severe blow, interrupting his formal schooling and, most tragically, costing his father’s life in one of the Japanese bombing raids. Following his father’s death, Fernando started working as a trishaw rider, construction labourer and apprentice mechanic, to support himself and the family. He also joined the Ceylon branch of the Indian National Army, not impelled by any ideology but out of a sheer necessity for self-sustenance.
After the war, Fernando completed his Cambridge School Certificate and embarked on a school teaching career. In 1955, he entered the University of Singapore, graduating in 1959 with double Honours in English and Philosophy. In 1960, he joined the University of Malaya in Kuala Lumpur as an assistant lecturer, and returned to the same post four years later, having obtaining a Ph.D. in English from the University of Leeds, England. In 1967, he was elevated to Professor and Head of English at the University of Malaya, posts he held until 1979. People retire at Malaysia at 55, and so when it was time for him to retire, Lloyd didn’t want to have to continue on a yearly contract, and not be certain of anything. He decided to take up law. He went to England and studied law at City University and then at Middle Temple, coming back with his law degrees. He joined a firm, and eventually started his own practice here, which he continued right up to the time he had a stroke, which was in December 1997.


Lloyd Fernando’s from Other Writer’s Perpective

Sunday March 2, 2008
A scholar and a gentleman
BY KEE THUAN CHYE
   
A friend remembers a great teacher, author, editor, and the first person in the country to promote the idea that local writers could produce worthy Malaysian English language works.

LLOYD Fernando was truly a scholar and a gentleman. He was a man of grace and polish who invariably spoke well of others. He loved literature and imparted his knowledge of it to his students with such passion that it made an indelible impact on their lives.
Above all, Lloyd was a fighter. Belying his urbane and gentle demeanour was a tough and tenacious spirit. He would not buckle under a discriminatory system when he was Head of English at Universiti Malaya. He fought his cases when he subsequently became a lawyer. He fought against the official practice of categorising Malaysian literature as “national” (for Malay writing) and “sectional” or “communal” (for writing in other languages). He fought for life when he suffered a severe stroke in 1997 and survived.
 On Thursday, he eventually succumbed to atrial fibrillation. He died in the Universiti Malaya Medical Centre three months short of turning 82.

Lloyd’s inner strength was honed from an early age. In 1938, when he was 12, his family migrated from Sri Lanka to Singapore. His formal education there was disrupted when war broke out and his father died in a bombing raid.
Faced with having to fend for his mother and siblings, the teenaged Lloyd had to take on a series of menial jobs. He was a trishaw rider, construction labourer, apprentice mechanic. He even signed up for the Ceylon branch of the Indian National Army.
After the war, Lloyd was determined to continue with his studies. He passed his Cambridge School Certificate but had to be a schoolteacher for some years before he could enter university at the age of 29.
He graduated with double honours in English and Philosophy and moved to Kuala Lumpur to be an assistant lecturer in Universiti Malaya. After obtaining his PhD from Leeds University in Britain, he was made professor in 1967.
I knew Lloyd best as a fellow writer. When I first met him in the late 1970s, it was with great respect for the work he had done – and was still doing – in promoting Malaysian English-language writing.
He was really the only person at the time visibly promoting new writing in English. He edited the landmark anthology 22 Malaysian Stories (1962) that gave recognition to fiction writers, the most outstanding of whom was Lee Kok Liang. Deservedly, that volume has seen numerous reprints and been adopted as a text in literature classes. It was even reissued more than 40 years later, in 2005.
Lloyd also brought attention to Malaysian playwrights. He edited New Drama One and New Drama Two (both published in 1972), which presented the works of Lee Joo For, Edward Dorall, Syed Alwi, and others. Without these two volumes, some of the plays of our pioneering playwrights might have now been lost.
I got to know Lloyd more intimately through participating in literary events and discourses with him. He was the embodiment of moderation. Even when he spoke with passion about an issue, his voice seldom crescendoed to a bellow. He often spoke about his vision of a multicultural Malaysia transcending race and religion. That was something we had in common, together with our concern for racial integration and equality.
He dealt with these themes in his novels, Scorpion Orchid (1976) and Green Is the Colour (1993). Some have criticised his style as being too academic in its detachment, but the message shines through nonetheless.
I regard the novels as two of the most important works of Malaysian fiction in any language. They came from a writer who loved his country enough to advocate eschewing narrow tribal concerns in favour of humanism and harmony.
Lloyd once told me that one of the challenges he encountered in his writing was his constant attempt to find ways of expressing himself in English without sounding “English English”. He avoided stock epithets and turns of phrase. He strove for Malaysian inflection. Those who mistook him for a patrician professor of English – no doubt reinforced at one time by his pipe-smoking penchant – never saw the colloquial Malaysian side of Lloyd.
As a family man, Lloyd seemed to have it together too, so I once sought his advice on bringing up children. “What should we do,” I asked, “to make our children understand what’s right?”
“You just have to keep talking to them and talking to them,” he said. “There’s no other way.”
I have been privy to moments he shared with his family. They seemed like friends to one another. His daughters, Eva and Sunetra, were on a first-name basis with him. Like their mother, Marie, they affectionately addressed him as “Lloydy”.
I also admired Lloyd for his discipline. When we were in Australia at a literary conference in 1995, we would get together in the evening to savour the local delight: wine. Lloyd loved wine as much as I do, but he would never go beyond his limit of two glasses while I would guzzle like there was no tomorrow – and suffer the fallout the next day.
But no, it was not just that. Lloyd’s discipline extended, even more admirably, to non-hedonistic pursuits. Coming from a background totally devoid of Malay, he taught himself that language late in life and achieved a fluency that allowed him to discourse on literature at national conferences and among Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka stalwarts.
In his 50s, when he might have been expected to put his feet up on the desk, he opted out of academia to study Law, and subsequently set up his own practice.
Then the blow came in 1997. I don’t think I’m a softie but when I visited him in the ICU ward and saw this once spirited person on the narrow bed, unable to speak, with a tube up his nose, I broke down.
It seemed that a blood clot had encroached on 70% of his brain, and the diagnosis was dire. But Lloyd’s will, as always, was strong. He pulled through the critical stage and was soon discharged.
I looked him up at his home after that and found he had, remarkably, regained much of his ability to speak although the left side of his body was paralysed. He said he was undergoing physiotherapy and vowed he would be back to driving in due course. I said, “Let me know when you do. I’ll come along for the ride.”
He never got that far. There were some things his will could not overcome. His condition deteriorated over the years but he carried on, lovingly attended to mostly by Marie and Sunetra, who also spared no effort in ensuring that he still enjoyed the cultural life by taking him, wheelchair-bound, to movies, concerts and other events.
On hearing about his passing, I e-mailed the sad news to eminent writer Shirley Lim Geok Lin who was once his student at UM. She replied:
“If Malaysia had more like him, our history would have been very different, and as a people and a nation we would be in a much better position.”
I couldn’t agree more. Lloyd epitomised a generation that had a firm idea of what is right. Sadly, there is now one less gentleman among them.

Source :
http://www.thestar.com.my/story.aspx/?file=%2f2008%2f3%2f2%2flifebookshelf%2f20500565&sec=lifebookshelf

Tuesday, 11 March 2014

LEE KOK LIANG (RETURN TO MALAYA)


Reading material from : http://www.unz.org/Pub/Encounter-1954aug-00003?View=PDF

Another Personality That We Should Know ( Mohammad A. Quayum)






Mohammad A. Quayum is Professor of English at International Islamic University Malaysia (IIUM), and Adjunct Professor in the Faculty of Education, Humanities and Law at Flinders University, Australia. He was a Visiting Professor of English and Asian Studies at the State University of New York at Binghamton (Binghamton University) in 2003-04. His previous affiliations include University Putra Malaysia (1996-2003), Nanyang Technological University, Singapore (1993-96), University of Dhaka, Bangladesh (1992-93) and University of Chittagong, Bangladesh (1979-88). 
Quayum obtained his MA in English Literature (with First Class and Distinction) from Lakehead University, Canada, in 1984 and his PhD from Flinders University (South Australia), in 1991. He is the author, editor or translator of twenty five books in the areas of American literature, Asian Literature and Postcolonial literatures, including The Essential Rokeya: Selected Works of Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain (1880-1932) (Leiden, Brill, 2013), Rabindranath Tagore: Selected Short Stories (New Delhi, Macmillan, 2011), The Poet and His World: Critical Essays on Rabindranath Tagore (New Delhi, Orient Longman, 2011), Imagined Communities Revisited: Critical Essays on Asia-Pacific Literatures and Cultures (Kuala Lumpur, IIUM Press, 2011), A Rainbow Feast: New Asian Short Stories (Singapore, Marshall Cavendish, 2010), Sharing Borders: Studies in Contemporary Singaporean-Malaysian Literature (Singapore National Library Board, in partnership with the Singapore Arts Council, 2009), One Sky, Many Horizons: Studies in Malaysian Literature in English (Kuala Lumpur, Marshall Cavendish, 2007), Peninsular Muse: Interviews with Modern Malaysian and Singaporean Poets, Novelists and Dramatists (Oxford, Peter Lang, 2007), Saul Bellow and American Transcendentalism (New York, Peter Lang, 2004), The Merlion and the Hibiscus: Contemporary Short Stories from Singapore and Malaysia (New Delhi, Penguin, 2002), Colonial to Global: Malaysian Women’s Writing in English 1940s – 1990s (Kuala Lumpur, IIUM Press, 2001, 2003), Singaporean Literature in English: A Critical Reader (Kuala Lumpur, University Putra Malaysia Press, 2002), Malaysian Literature in English: A Critical Reader (Pearson Malaysia, 2001), Saul Bellow: The Man and His Work (New Delhi: B.R. Publishing, 2000), and In Blue Silk Girdle: Stories from Malaysia and Singapore (Kuala Lumpur, University Putra Malaysia Press, 1998). 
Quayum is also the author of fifty-odd articles in distinguished peer-reviewed journals such as the Journal of Commonwealth Literature, World Literature Written in English and Wasafiri in the United Kingdom; Kunapipi, New Literatures Review, CRNLE Journal, Quodlibet: The Australian Journal of Trans-national Writing and Transnational Literature in Australia; Crossroads: Interdisciplinary Journal of Southeast Asian Studies, South Asian Review, Journal of South Asian Literature, Interdisciplinary Literary Studies, MELUS, Saul Bellow Journal, Studies in American Jewish Literature, Notes on Contemporary Literature and American Studies International in the US; Postcolonial Text in Canada; New Zealand Journal of Asian Studies in New Zealand; English Studies in Africa in South Africa; Sun Yat-sen Journal of Humanities in Taiwan; Indian Journal of American Studies, Literature and Criticism, The Aligarh Critical Miscellany, The Visvabharati Quarterly and CIEFL Bulletin in India.
Quayum’s books have been reviewed in American Studies International (USA), Ariel (Canada), Asiatic (Malaysia), Cha: An Asian Literary Journal (Hong Kong), Diliman Humanities (Philippines), Journal of Commonwealth Literature (UK), Journal of Postcolonial Cultures and Societies (USA/India), Journal of Postcolonial Writing (UK), Kajian Malaysia: Journal of Malaysian Studies (Malaysia), Quarterly Literary Review Singapore, RELC Journal (Singapore), RIMA (Review of Indonesian and Malaysian Association, Australia), South Asian Review (USA), Sun Yat-sen Journal of Humanities (Taiwan), Transnational Literature (Australia), World Literature Written in English (UK), and in many newspapers in Bangladesh, India, Malaysia and Singapore.
Quayum was a recipient of the USIS Regionalisation Fellowship in 1995; Flinders University Visiting Fellowship in 1996; IRPA Research Grant from the Ministry of Science, Technology and Innovation Malaysia in 2000 and 2002; Visiting Professorship at Flinders University in 2009, and Senior Research Fellowship at the Singapore Management University in 2009 and 2010. He received Teaching Excellence Award at University Putra Malaysia in 1997 and 1998, and Quality Research Award at International Islamic University Malaysia in 2006, 2007 and 2008 (at the Faculty Level; three years consecutively). He was co-editor of the prestigious literary journal World Literature Written in English for eight years (1992-2000; published by the Oxford University Press, Singapore), and is the Founding Editor of Asiatic: IIUM Journal of English Language and Literature (indexed in Elsevier’s Scopus). He is on the advisory board of four leading journals in his field: Journal of Postcolonial Writing (Routledge, UK), Transnational Literature (Australia), Journal of Postcolonial Cultures and Societies (USA) and Diliman Humanities (the Philippines). His research interests range from 19th and 20th century American literature to contemporary Asian literature, with special focus on Indian literature, Bengali literature and Malaysian-Singaporean literature.
Quayum is a Bangladeshi citizen and an Australian Permanent Resident. He was born on June 30, 1954. He lives in Gombak, Kuala Lumpur with his wife, Natasha and daughter, Sasha.


Books

Mohammad A. Quayum, ed. and trans., The Essential Rokeya: Selected Works of Rokeya Sakhawat Hossain (1880-1932). Leiden, New York: Brill, 2013. (240 pages; ISBN 13: 9789004255852)
http://www.brill.com/essential-rokeya

Mohammad A. Quayum, trans and introduced. Rabindranath Tagore: Selected Short Stories. New Delhi: Macmillan, 2011) (216 pages; ISBN 023-033-277-3)
http://www.macmillanindia.com/book-details.asp?bookid=4010&from=gr&broadid=44&detailedid=78
 
Mohammad A. Quayum, ed. The Poet and His World: Critical Essays on Rabindranath Tagore. New Delhi: Orient Longman, 2011 (316 pages; 978-81-250-4319-5)
http://www.orientblackswan.com/display.asp?categoryID=19&isbn=978-81-250-4319-5&detail=2

Nor Faridah A. Manaf and Mohammad A. Quayum, eds. Imagined Communities Revisited: Critical Essays on Asia-Pacific Literatures and Cultures. Kuala Lumpur: IIUM Press, 2011 (246pages; ISBN 978-967-418-215-1; with a Foreword by Benedict Anderson)
http://rms.research.iium.edu.my/bookstore/Products/485-wwwgooglecom.aspx

Mohammad A. Quayum, ed. A Rainbow Feast: New Asian Short Stories. Singapore: Marshall Cavendish, 2010 (330pages; ISBN 13: 978-981-4302-71-5)
http://www.marshallcavendish.com/marshallcavendish/genref/A-Rainbow-Feast-B24174_Singapore.aspx

Mohammad A. Quayum and Wong Phui Nam, eds. Sharing Borders: Studies in Contemporary Singaporean-Malaysian Literature. Singapore: National Library Board, in partnership with Singapore Arts Council, 2009. (267 pages; ISBN 978-981-08-3910-9) http://www.ethosbooks.com.sg/store/mli_viewItem.asp?idProduct=239

Mohammad A. Quayum and Nor Faridah Abdul Manaf, eds. Writing a Nation: Essays on Malaysian Literature. Kuala Lumpur: IIUM Press, 2008. (305 pages; ISBN 978-983-3855-94-0)
http://rms.research.iium.edu.my/bookstore/Products/223-wwwgooglecom.aspx

Mohammad A. Quayum. One Sky, Many Horizons: Studies in Malaysian Literature in English. Kuala Lumpur: Marshall Cavendish, 2007. (345 pages; ISBN 978 9833-845-41-4)
http://catalogue.nla.gov.au/Record/4230502

Mohammad A. Quayum, ed. Peninsular Muse: Interviews with Modern Malaysian and Singaporean Poets, Novelists and Dramatists. Oxford, Bern: Peter Lang, 2007. (305 pages; ISBN 978-3-03911-061-2)
http://www.peterlang.com/index.cfm?event=cmp.cst.ebooks.datasheet&id=13651

Mohammad A. Quayum, ed. Chuah Guat Eng: The Old House and Other Stories. Kuala Lumpur: Holograms, 2007. (160 pages; ISBN 987-983-43778-0-9)

Mohammad A. Quayum. Saul Bellow and American Transcendentalism. New York: Peter Lang, 2004. (288 pages; ISBN 0-8204-3652-6)
http://www.peterlang.com/index.cfm?event=cmp.ccc.seitenstruktur.detailseiten&seitentyp=produkt&pk=44247&cid=690

Mohammad A. Quayum et al, eds. Petals of Hibiscus: A Representative Anthology of Malaysian Literature in English. Kuala Lumpur: Pearson Education, 2003. (Chief Editor; 345 pages; ISBN 983-74-3045-1)

Dina Zaman and Mohammad A. Quayum, eds. Silverfish New Writing 3. Kuala Lumpur: Silverfish Books (in association with the Australian High Commission, KL), 2003. (208 pages; ISBN 983-40816-5-0)

Rosli Talif and Mohammad A. Quayum, eds. Diverse Voices 2. Malaysia: University Putra Malaysia Press, 2003. (337 pages)

Dipika Mukherjee, Kirpal Singh and Mohammad A. Quayum, eds. The Merlion and the Hibiscus: Contemporary Short Stories from Singapore and Malaysia. Penguin Books, 2002. (240 pages; ISBN 0-14-302812-X)

Mohammad A. Quayum and Peter Wicks, eds. Singaporean Literature in English: A Critical Reader. Malaysia: University Putra Malaysia Press, 2002. (447 pages; ISBN 983-2373-50-6)

Mohammad A. Quayum and Peter Wicks, eds. Malaysian Literature in English: A Critical Reader. Kuala Lumpur: Pearson Education, 2001. (338 pages; ISBN 983-74-1956-3)

Nor Faridah Abdul Manaf and Mohammad A. Quayum. Colonial to Global: Malaysian Women’s Writing in English 1940s – 1990s. Malaysia: IIUM Press, 2001. (486 pages; ISBN 983-9727-38-9; Reprinted in 2003)
http://rms.research.iium.edu.my/bookstore/Products/247-wwwgooglecom.aspx

Chan Swee Heng, Mohammad A. Quayum and Rosli Talif, eds. Diverse Voices: Readings in Languages, Literatures and Cultures. Malaysia: University Putra Malaysia Press, 2000. (248 pages; ISBN 983-9319-84-1)

Mohammad A. Quayum and Sukhbir Singh, eds. Saul Bellow: The Man and His Work. India: B.R. Publishing, 2000. (594 pages; ISBN 81-7646-167-9)
      
Mohammad A. Quayum and Rosli Talif. Dictionary of Literary Terms. Revised Edition. Kuala Lumpur: PrenticeHall, 2000. (343 pages; ISBN 983-9236-51-2)

Mohammad A. Quayum and Rosli Talif. Dictionary of Literary Terms. Kuala Lumpur: PrenticeHall, 1999. (265 pages; ISBN 983-9236-41-5)

Mohammad A. Quayum, ed. In Blue Silk Girdle: Stories from Malaysia and Singapore. Malaysia: University Putra Malaysia Press, 1998. (224 pages; ISBN 983-9319-45-0)

http://www.silverfishbooks.com/buybooks/index.php?main_page=product_book_info&products_id=941

Mohammad A. Quayum and Rosli Talif. A Concise Dictionary of Literary Terms. Malaysia: University Putra Malaysia Press, 1997. (82 pages; ISBN 983-9319-17-5)