Ahad, 27 November 2011

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The Star Online: Lifestyle: Bookshelf


Capturing emotions

Posted: 26 Nov 2011 10:42 PM PST

A PICTURE, they say, paints a thousand words. The images above, featured on a page in the book Hotshots, say that much and more: they are pictures of Malaysian sports teams celebrating various triumphs, including snagging football's Merdeka Cup in 1976.

Hotshots, the book produced to celebrate The Star's 40th anniversary this year, uses pictures to tell the story of a nation and its people as captured for our news and features pages.

In 249 glossy pages, Hotshots brings together some of the most important, memorable and inspiring images of people, landmarks and events of the last four decades.

The book will be available at a special price of RM55 (normal price: RM59.90) at the MPH Carnival at the Mid Valley Exhibition Centre in Kuala Lumpur (booth No. 1065-1071-1084-1090). This offer is valid, while stocks last, from Dec 8 to 12, 2011.

There will also be an exhibition of photos from Hotshots on Dec 10-12 at Function Room B at the carnival, as well as the Hotshots: A Practitioner's Perspective talk that will take place from 3pm to 4pm on Dec 10 and 11 at the carnival's stage area.

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Natural magic

Posted: 26 Nov 2011 10:41 PM PST

Inspired by her childhood, an author explores through her short stories the complicated jumble of human truths that lie just below the surface of life in a small town.

ENVELOPED within green surroundings of swaying coconut trees and tall casuarinas, the inhabitants of Coal Island play out their lives in a fishbowl, enduring the voyeurism inherent in life in a small town. This is the paradoxical, whimsical setting of Wildlife On Coal Island, Shivani Sivagurunathan's debut collection of beautifully written short stories.

There is murder, lust, delusions of grandeur; each story penetrates beneath the surface of gossip, revealing human truths that seem at times deeply absurd, and at other times eerily familiar. Always, however, abrupt conclusions will leave you feeling surprisingly emotional, and weathering a state of strange pondering.

Some describe Shivani's writing as magical realism – there does seem to be an air of the supernatural at work, as we peek into the lives of larger-than-life characters hidden within the underbelly of small town life. Shivani herself, however, prefers not to pigeonhole herself in any one style. Whatever its classification, her writing weaves a series of tales akin to chapters in a novella, bringing the island itself to life almost like an additional character.

A magical quality comes across in the stories of the island's residents: Choong Li the monkey lady, Mrs. Mano the prophetess, and Mr Percy Punter, a lonely decrepit relic of Malaya's colonial past, are as much lost souls as they are part of the island's beating heart. We watch entranced as the folk of the town's close knit community rejoicing in, gossiping about and escaping from each other.

But what makes this book especially intriguing is the role that nature plays in the lives of the islanders. There are bats, chameleons, iguanas, renegade tapirs and fiery flame of the forest trees bent on reminding us that the space is shared by more than just fickle human beings. Sometimes, these other islanders bring forth cryptic visions, connecting us to the past, present and future, appearing in the form of a hungry python, or a flock of wise kingfishers, swarming in the reddish gold of an evening sky.

It is these colourful characters that help bring Coal Island to life, and it is through them that its essence, intricately bound together in the stories of its human subjects, is felt.

The fact that trees and animals make a constant appearance in Shivani's stories is no coincidence. Port Dickson is, in many ways, not unlike Coal Island. A small town located along the Strait of Malacca in Negri Sembilan, PD, as it's known, is where Shivani grew up, and it is possessed of the kind of simple quietude where nature likes to make her presence felt.

Though weekends would bring with it bus loads of tourists, Shivani, 30, remembers that on weekdays, the town (once known simply as Arang, the Malay word for "coal") had a certain "surreal silence" about it.

"As a child you're always looking for entertainment, ways to thrill yourself. But Port Dickson doesn't really lend itself to that kind of experience, unlike the city where there's always somewhere to go, something to do," she explains.

"I don't ever really remember going out anywhere, except for maybe walks on the beach, or just simply sitting in the garden. That's why the book draws so heavily on that engagement with nature – snakes that come into the garden, iguanas that creep through the drain, these form the basis for some of my stories."

To an imaginative yet introverted young girl, that silence was just begging to be filled, and – "I think that's basically what I did!

"My childhood was full of fantasies, about people, about leaving...."

According to Shivani, the two places, real and imagined, share certain things: size, and the kind of gossipy characters you meet, for example. Growing up in PD, there were always plenty of curious news items about the town's colourful characters to be spread through neighbours or aunties doing their morning rounds at the market. Perhaps it was this constant supply of gossip that triggered her interest in the nature of human relationships.

"I'm interested in this division between the public self and the private self, what you project to society, for example, and what you do in private are not necessarily the same thing. I'm also intrigued by how communication happens. I think a lot of how we interact with one another stems from failed understandings between people, and that's something which I think features in most of my stories."

Wildlife On Coal Island is in many ways an imaginary version of Port Dickson. The characters are loosely inspired by real memories and events, subjected, of course, to a wild dose of creative speculation. "On the surface it's all kind of comical. But underneath that, I think, there is a kind of tragedy which comes out through the comedy."

Currently, Shivani lectures in English literature, trying her best to inspire the same passion she has for the subject in her students at Universiti Putra Malaysia.

Wildlife On Coal Island is available in most major bookstores nationwide.

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The game’s afoot once more!

Posted: 26 Nov 2011 10:39 PM PST

Presenting the first ever authorised new Sherlock Holmes book. Is it a worthwhile read? Elementary, my dear Watson.

THE House Of Silk is the first Sherlock Holmes story in history that has been authorised by the Conan Doyle estate. The recipient of this honour is Anthony Horowitz, perhaps best known for his Alex Rider series, much beloved of teenage boys. But Horowitz is also a lifelong Sherlock Holmes fan, well steeped in the Conan Doyle tradition, and it was decided that he could be relied upon to stay true to the style and tone of the original tales. As a writer already proficient in the task of keeping restless teenagers hooked on engaging storylines, the ability to spin a good yarn was not in question. And so it has proved.

The House Of Silk is a cracking good read featuring many of the characters that have left indelible marks on countless thousands of Sherlock Holmes fans over the years. Readers of this addition to the oeuvre will not be disappointed, even if they resent the role of the master being usurped.

The book opens with an introduction from Watson, now an old man still nursing the bullet wound in his shoulder he received at Maiwand in the Second Anglo-Afghan War. As he recalls his days with Holmes, he represents himself as a reluctant chronicler: "If anyone had suggested that I might be a published writer I would have laughed at the thought". Nonetheless, despite being accused by Holmes of "vulgar romanticism" and being regarded by him as little better than a "Grub Street" scribbler, Watson decides that he has one more story to tell before he dies, a story too monstrous and shocking to appear in print until a further century has passed.

Welcome then, dear reader, 100 years later, to The House Of Silk and "one last portrait of Mr Sherlock Holmes and a perspective that has not been seen before".

The book's opening scene is a small tour de force. Watson arrives at 221b Baker Street and is greeted by the words, "Influenza is unpleasant ... but you are right in thinking that, with your wife's help, the child will recover soon".

From his appearance alone, and within seconds of his arrival, Holmes deduces that Watson's wife is out of town, that she left from Holborn Viaduct Station, that their child is sick, that the train was delayed so they had coffee together and that Watson is left without a maid. Watson is astounded at the level and precision of the deduction, to Holmes it is "elementary", and we are on familiar ground. It is only minutes before, once again, "the game's afoot".

The storyline Horowitz develops is ambitious. The accidental loss of some paintings in America triggers a series of events that lead to London. In investigating this line of enquiry an altogether different enquiry opens up.

The number of corpses grows. Sinister characters appear and disappear. There appears to be little connection between events but as the plot widens in scope the two main narratives become inextricably linked and ultimately lead to the same destination, the House of Silk. And more than that, it would be unfair to reveal.

Horowitz manages the complex and intricate storyline well and convincingly. His knowledge of the previous stories clearly helps here, as does the plotting he has developed for his own Alex Rider series. The House Of Silk is as much a page turner as one could wish for but, rightly or wrongly, Horowitz has sacrificed some of the richness of the language of the original tales in favour, presumably, of readability. The intriguingly obscure vocabulary and archaisms are noticeably absent, an absence I occasionally regretted.

A real strength of The House Of Silk is its recreation of London and London street life from Sherlock's time. The fogs and haloes around the gas lights, the jingling of horse harness, the rattle of coaches over cobblestones ... these are as much a part of the Sherlock Holmes vista as the crimes and Holmes' amusement over what he regards as Watson's limited powers of observation.

But there is another side to the London of that time as well, and it features prominently here. The scenes of squalor and poverty are deeply etched. The Baker Street Irregulars that Holmes employs as an essential part of his spy and message network are not romanticised but are street urchins who exist on their wits, and they live dangerous, vulnerable and dispensable lives.

There will be much here for fans of Holmes to enjoy, including rather more benevolent appearances than usual from Lestrade and Moriarty. And even Holmes' brother Mycroft makes a rare and helpful contribution. For such is the enormity of the crimes at the House of Silk that there is a coming together of forces that have in the past ranged from hostile to indifferent.

So is The House Of Silk a worthwhile read? Elementary, my dear Watson.

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