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CITY OF DREAMS: The themes of Goh Poh Seng's first novel still feel fresh after three decades. -- ST PHOTO: LAU FOOK KONG
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EVERY few years, debate about the Great Singaporean Novel is rekindled - when will it be written, will it ever be written and what makes a Great Singaporean Novel in the first place?
The last of these has a strong answer in the debut novel of literary pioneer Goh Poh Seng. First published in 1972, If We Dream Too Long, which was the National Book Development Council of Singapore Award Winner For English Fiction in 1976, is the earliest novel to capture the zeitgeist of our young nation.
Unlike the novels that were to come in its wake, like Suchen Christine Lim's Rice Bowl (1984) and Gopal Baratham's A Candle Or The Sun (1991), Dream is not overtly political. It is too introspective for that, focusing on the hope, uncertainty and disillusionment that comes with testing independence, feelings that still feel fresh and relevant more than 30 years on.
When we meet the protagonist Kwang Meng, the 18-year-old is playing hooky from his job as a clerk at a nondescript company. He spends his stolen hours on the beach, eventually ending up at the Esplanade, the womb of the fledging island nation.
Goh's prose is lyrical, frequently stunning. Here is how he captures the anonymity and dignity of the ships calling at the port: 'They were always there, anchored outside, and yet he knew they plied the seas; were only in Singapore a few hours, a few days. Then others replaced them. From every corner of the world. But to him they were the same ships. The evening ships.'
It is a big world full of mysterious possibilities out there, but Kwang Meng is shackled to the island, infused with the quiet despair of a young man with no money and no prospects. Graduating with a Pre-U education but without the money to pursue a university degree, the only white collar job he qualifies for is clerking, the same dead-end job his father has held for the whole of his adult life.
As an aside, the novel has a niggling anachronism: The year is 1968, judging from the mention of a newly elected Miss Singapore 1968, but 18-year-old Kwang Meng does not seem to have to serve national service, which was introduced in 1967. What a different story of ennui and helplessness that would have made.
The only indication of any sort of accomplishment in his father's life is a photograph of the latter receiving an award for 25 years of service. It is an undistinguished life the son can all too easily envision for himself: 'In his mind, he again saw his father's photograph hanging on the wall above the larder. He felt his own destination was his photograph twenty-five years hence, adorning another kitchen wall above another larder.'
Alternative, more glorious fates are granted to two of his friends - the cunning, loquacious Hock Lai and the wiry athlete Nadarajah. The destinies of the trio are cleverly, rather cheekily, illustrated by the author in the roles they played in a school production of Shakespeare's The Merchant Of Venice - not coincidentally, a play set in a port city.
Hock Lai landed the scenery-chewing part of Shylock, Nadarajah played the rich, perfect Portia and Kwang Meng won the colourless role of the servant Balthazar - his only line being 'Madam, I go with all convenient speed'.
Goh sensitively chronicles Kwang Meng's search for new ways of living, including his sexual awakening under the ministrations of a bar girl, his search for oblivion in drink, and a tentative relationship with a trainee teacher. The author illustrates his character's weaknesses without condemning them.
His keen awareness of the aspirational qualities of young Singapore is also apparent in his choice of settings, from the HDB flat that is 'just a jumbled lot of rooms for habitation' to the G.H. Cafe in Battery Road, then the epitome of wealth and status.
But dreams don't always come true, as Kwang Meng eventually learns at the rather depressing end of the book. Mediocrity is, unavoidably, part of the human condition; the best one can do, as a character says at one point, is to 'find if not satisfaction, if not happiness, at least some solace'.
Perhaps we should imagine ourselves as the ships that sail in and out of port in Singapore, in Venice and across the world: interchangeable but essential bit players that come and go with all convenient speed.
ysteph@sph.com.sg
If We Dream Too Long (1972) is out of print but can be borrowed from most branches of the National Library. It is located in the SING section and the call number is GOH.
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