A Simple History of Singaporeans in America

[Jee Leong]

Lauriene, thanks for your kind words. There is a balance between ordinary story and striking lines, which I am trying to find. The latter has the effect of focusing attention on itself, which is necessary for certain moments. I'm glad to hear the poems keep your interest.

Donner, Guy my bf told me that I was going to lose friends by interviewing and writing about them. People don't like their lives summarized by another person, or perhaps even by themselves. So far, my interviewees have been pleased with the poems when I showed them, or at least they make a show of being pleased :-)

Neil, I'm pleased you caught the tension/balance between looking back and looking forward. Like all immigrants, Singaporeans in America cannot help but to do so. I share your concern about the rollback of progress across the world.

[Jee Leong]

The Poet

for Justin Chin (b.1969, Kuantan, Malaysia–d.2015, San Francisco, USA)


I will sit here and think of Justin Chin.
Here is my laptop and the peace lily
I bought from Lloyd in the makeshift greenhouse,
the trains above making a muted racket.

Lloyd’s black but he reminded me of you.
It was the way he managed the street shop
without seeming to manage it. His eyes,
kingpins, did not nail down my back and bag.

The plants around me seemed to speak for him,
boxwood, snake plant, and bird of paradise,
as he transferred the lily to the black
ceramic pot I had picked out. No charge,
he added, smiling, for repotting it.

One leaf turned yellow yesterday. Dammit.

[JFN]

Jee, The Columnist builds the history so smoothly, dropping back to school and then bringing us forward again. I was struck by the 9/11 section, the white dust echoed by the drained face, and the tower chasing the falling man is an exacting and disturbing image, and very true to the events of that day. What I can empathise I can't truly imagine what it must be like for one to have been born into a culture that criminalises one for nothing more than being oneself, but there is a rawness underlying this poem I can appreciate, and it at least brings me a little closer.

I'm looking at our peace lily now. Good choice of plant. The last sentence, although initially humorous, makes me think of the chain of memory, the plant to Lloyd to Justin, and what happens to those memories if the peace lily dies.

John

[GreaterMandalaofUselessness]

Hi Jee,

The Columnist. Lots to like here. Clearly the experience of 9/11 had a big influence on him. He sees people pulling together in time of emergency, which gives him a sense of belonging. (In another poem of yours, if I remember it right, a woman is phoned by the Singaporean embassy after the attack to check she's OK, which gave her a sense of belonging as a Singaporean). The effect of 377A on men in Singapore is clearly the other main reason (the men in the bar) and how he's seen as a gay Singaporean (the death threats, the silence on Facebook). What I don't know that I fully got the swimming pool / trunks strand and how it relates to him giving up his passport and wanting to leave Singapore. The context tells me it must be related to the experience of being young and gay in Singapore. I googled the book title. So perhaps he too had some sexual experience in a (private?) school swimming pool or changing room (in a Singapore school, presumably)? The younger teachers blush. So they were involved too -- or they knew about it? I do like the image of the wing-cowering petroleum soaked birds though. I'd thought it an image of the trunks, but I guess it's the boy who's cowering? Abused by the teachers? People he could subsequently shame if he chose ("rub some noses in the pubes").

(Should "what made the younger ..." should be "that made ...")

The Poet S2L2, I really like the way this is a remembering of one person done almost entirely by describing another. In S3, I imagine that what goes for Chin's poems are analogous to Lloyd's plants, they speak for him. I was bit thrown by the switch from third person (S1L1) to second person, assuming the "you" is Justin.

best,

-Matt

[5th column]

I enjoy the gentle cadences of the language in the last. They are a gift to the reader insofar as they amplify the narrative.

This will sound really piffly but I think S1L3 could lose the 'I'

Much enjoyed

[Jee Leong]

John, I'm glad to hear that you think the rawness in "The Columnist" works with the other more graceful sections. Our Peace Lily sits in our studio, and brings a needed touch of green into our work.

Matt, thanks for the suggestions. Will definitely think more about the apparently unmotivated turn into the school past and about the switch in pronouns in "The Poet."

Neil, good call. I will lose the "I".

[Jee Leong]

This is a very rough, incomplete draft. Just did the interview yesterday and thought I'd try to work with the material this morning.

The Samurai

for Zeke Allis


The tune arrived in AP History—
the West was Wild, before the Civil War—
a cowboy tune picking its way across
a stony desert or a wary street,
hum-hammered in head until written down.
His mom and dad surmised a samurai—
too much Kurosawa—but the conceit,
the double, no, triple-crossing crossover,
appealed to him, the “unseen prodigy”
as he described himself in Middle School.
You call your teachers by Arnold or Claire
in MSC. The joke is every contest
you cannot win because nobody wins.
The Bronx High School is different. He has
more friends, more family, more enemies.
You find ways to distinguish yourself from
the pack while working your way up—a sailor
in “Anything Goes,” the Russian Soloist
in “Fiddler,” dancing the hip Russian dance,
in “The Drowsy Chaperone,” finally
a principal, the groom’s best man, who brings
the whole house crashing down with his tap dance.
Singapore, which he visits every summer,
when he would eat his favorite cha siew noodles
and hang out with his cousins who are bound
for medicine or engineering, Singapore
is in his childhood, also in his blood,
and makes him special to American peers,
makes him mysterious as Dr Who,
the show he shared with his pal Cameron,
who lives with his mom alone, as does he
in a more figurative sense.

(to be continued)

[Donner]

Hi, Jee,

The opening of "The Samurai" caught me off-guard with the references to the wild west, the Civil War, cowboy tunes and the desert - what's that got to do with a samurai? - until I got further into the draft. Then it made sense, and even more so as it went on. What I especially like is how Zeke is seen as "exotic" in America and able to stand out, not for being from Singapore but for the ways he finds to distinguish himself "from the pack" (such an American thing to do) and then how he blends in when he hangs out with his cousins in Singapore, all doing what's expected of them, but how he actually feels like he fits in anywhere - "alone, as does he / in a more figurative sense." However you continue, that seems like a good ending point.

Donna

[Jee Leong]

Thanks, Donna, for giving me your impressions. I also thought the lines "who lives with his mom alone, as does he/ in a more figurative sense" make for a good ending. We all live alone with our mother and her legacy: a private and, ultimately, non-communicable relationship. I would love to hear what you think of the continuation.

[Jee Leong]

The Samurai

for Zeke Allis


The tune found him in AP History—
the West was Wild, before the Civil War—
a cowboy tune picking its way across
a stony desert or a wary street,
hum-hammered in head until written down.
His mom and dad surmised a samurai—
too much Kurosawa—but the conceit,
the double, no, triple-crossing crossover,
appealed to him, the “unseen prodigy”
as he described himself in Middle School.
You call your teachers by Joachim or Claire
in MSC. The joke is every contest
you cannot win because nobody wins.
The Bronx High School is different. He has
more friends, more family, more enemies.
You find ways to distinguish yourself from
the pack while working your way up—a sailor
in “Anything Goes,” the Russian soloist
in “Fiddler,” kicking up the Russian dance,
and in “The Drowsy Chaperone,” finally
a principal, the groom’s best man, who brings
the schoolhouse crashing down with his tap dance.
Singapore, which he visits every summer,
when he would eat his favorite cha siew noodles
and hang out with his cousins who are bound
for medicine or engineering, Singapore
is in his childhood, also in his blood,
and makes him special to American peers
somewhat, mysterious as Dr Who,
the show he shared with his pal Cameron,
who lives with his mom alone, as does he
in a more figurative sense, as do we.
Once he decided for the arts, she then
decided he must make a success of it.
She brought him the commission. He composed
from his ambiguous tune an orchestral work,
developing a part for every section,
pitching the color right for different strings,
an epic sound in the tradition of
Lord of the Rings, The Game of Thrones, old Westerns.
He named the work “The Samurai with No Name”
after Clint Eastwood’s anti-hero but
insisted at our recent interview
the work’s not autobiographical.

[JFN]

Jee, I have only read the second version of Samurai so haven't looked for any differences. Sorry. I very much like the Kurosawa opening, and how his love of westerns transfers to the protagonist in the poem, as a trans-pacific reference. As a fan of both Kurosawa and Westerns I'm happy. As with the others in the series it is nice to follow Zeke's journey, and I like how it ends with a defined echo of the opening. Good stuff.

John

[Donner]

Hi, Jee,

Like John, I like how you circle back to the westerns theme (nothing like a good spaghetti western starring Clint Eastwood) and that Zeke identifies with the anti-hero, even though he insists that's not him. The continuation seemed out of place to me, I still want this to end with him feeling alone which would emphasize how he sees himself, something like:

The tune found him in AP History—
the West was Wild, before the Civil War—
a cowboy tune picking its way across
a stony desert or a wary street,
hum-hammered in head until written down.
His mom and dad surmised a samurai—
too much Kurosawa—but the conceit,
the double, no, triple-crossing crossover,
appealed to him, the “unseen prodigy”
as he described himself in Middle School.
You call your teachers by Joachim or Claire
in MSC. The joke is every contest
you cannot win because nobody wins.
The Bronx High School is different. He has
more friends, more family, more enemies.
You find ways to distinguish yourself from
the pack while working your way up—a sailor
in “Anything Goes,” the Russian soloist
in “Fiddler,” kicking up the Russian dance,
and in “The Drowsy Chaperone,” finally
a principal, the groom’s best man, who brings
the schoolhouse crashing down with his tap dance.
Once he decided for the arts, she then
decided he must make a success of it.
She brought him the commission. He composed
from his ambiguous tune an orchestral work,
developing a part for every section,
pitching the color right for different strings,
an epic sound in the tradition of
Lord of the Rings, The Game of Thrones, old Westerns.
He named the work “The Samurai with No Name”
after Clint Eastwood’s anti-hero but
insisted at our recent interview
the work’s not autobiographical.
Singapore, which he visits every summer,
when he would eat his favorite cha siew noodles
and hang out with his cousins who are bound
for medicine or engineering, Singapore
is in his childhood, also in his blood,
and makes him special to American peers
somewhat, mysterious as Dr Who,
the show he shared with his pal Cameron,
who lives with his mom alone, as does he
in a more figurative sense, as do we.

which would also emphasize his mother's influence in his life. Of course I'm not doing the interviews and I don't have the vision you have for the poem, this is just my preference for non-linear time lines and stubborn intuition speaking.

Donna

[Jee Leong]

Thanks, John and Donna! Good to have your different takes on the continuation. Appreciate.

[Jee Leong]

The Ally

There once was a man from Singapore
who zipped in a ship to Mandalore.
They thought him a Jedi
but he was an alibi
of Achilles in the Trojan War.

[GreaterMandalaofUselessness]

Hi Jee,

I came across the premiere of this piece here. I like it. I can really hear the Western influence. In the poem, I prefer the new ending to the first version, the way the close brings us back to the opening, and how Allis' disclaimer works nicely against the autobiographical details in poem. I also like the contrast between working to distinguish himself from the pack while at school in NY, and then the more laid back hanging out (fitting in?) with cousins back in Singapore.

And a limerick to close. It's fun, though I'm not sure I get it, assuming there's something to get. I now know where Mandalore is, and did find a web reference to a poetry performance called "Achilles' Alibi". Must be nice to ease up and finish on something short, though

-Matt