Literally reminded of my place... (new poems, new words)
I have just finished reading "The River of Lost Footsteps - Histories of Burma" by Thant Myint-U and though it is witty and well written, with just enough reference to his varied and illustrious family to give the story a personal touch he does not overdwell on his connections to U Thant and Aung San Suu Kyi (the book was written and published before the most recent uprising) - something a more commercially minded author may have been tempted to do - the book left me feeling sad for the country.
I am not in a position to say whether the histories contained within are historically correct, until this point I have only read of Burma's past as defined by the histories of either England, Lanna or Siam. I'm also not quite sure whether I am in a position to debate the impassioned plea in the final chapter not to further isolate a regime that thrives on isolation and is quite happy with the status quo.
What really worries me for Burma's future, the reason for my sadness, however, is that a man such as Thant Myint-U, an obviously intellectual possible statesman is not in a position to join the debate in shaping the future of his country, that, in sticking to their narrow-minded military viewpoint (Thant argues that this is a consequence of self imposed and then externally imposed isolation) and denying that the country faces problems the regime excludes the obviously brilliant minds of this generation from the building and growth of the nation.
This book joins, Pascal Khoo Thwe's "Land of the Green Ghosts", a thoroughly different book and, though this author is proudly Paduang and not Burmese he is exiled by the same regime and was born within the area the map calls Burma and the regime call Myanmar, he is another obviously talented author writing for historical fact rather than easier populist sales targets, another writer capable of telling the larger story.
Another brain that, it seems to me, should not be a voice from the outside calling in, another mind whose inclusion in the nation building process may be of benefit for all in the dis-united union.
That I make my point clumsily, without anything approaching the elegance of the above mentioned authors points me towards my closing subject, the putting of me in my literary place...
...I've read some books, I pride myself on a vocabulary - some self invented, some vernacular - that is broad, wide ranging and international, I even (pretentiously, it tuns out) punctuate my SMS text messages and am perversely proud when the spell checker rejects a word I know to be spelled correctly (even if used incorrectly).
On reading The River of Lost Footsteps I was once again reminded that I have an engineering degree and that I waste my evenings watching American sit. com.s, my lack of depth of knowledge of the English language and literature was bought home to me.
Firstly I learned two new words - autarkic and palimpsest.
Secondly I learned - from a reviewer whose name suggests an origin within geographical Myanmar, Ko Ko Thett - that Thant Myint-U got the name of his history from a piece by Kipling. Thett noted:
"When Rudyard Kipling first saw the Irrawaddy River in 1889, he wrote: ‘I reflected that I was looking upon the river of lost footsteps—the road that so many men of my acquaintance had travelled, never to return, within the past three years.’"
...and quoted within the book is a poem that George Orwell wrote in 1925 that made me smile - though on searching for its origins I am reminded that it may not have been intended as humourous which makes sense as Orwell is not normally a bundle of joy - again to the bargain basement, three for a pound, literary pile for me.
Still, I smiled whether I was supposed to or not!
When I was young and had no sense
In far-off Mandalay
I lost my heart to a Burmese girl
As lovely as the day.
Her skin was gold, her hair was jet,
Her teeth were ivory;
I said, "For twenty silver pieces,
Maiden, sleep with me."
She looked at me, so pure, so sad,
The loveliest thing alive,
And in her lisping, virgin voice,
Stood out for twenty-five.
I am not in a position to say whether the histories contained within are historically correct, until this point I have only read of Burma's past as defined by the histories of either England, Lanna or Siam. I'm also not quite sure whether I am in a position to debate the impassioned plea in the final chapter not to further isolate a regime that thrives on isolation and is quite happy with the status quo.
What really worries me for Burma's future, the reason for my sadness, however, is that a man such as Thant Myint-U, an obviously intellectual possible statesman is not in a position to join the debate in shaping the future of his country, that, in sticking to their narrow-minded military viewpoint (Thant argues that this is a consequence of self imposed and then externally imposed isolation) and denying that the country faces problems the regime excludes the obviously brilliant minds of this generation from the building and growth of the nation.
This book joins, Pascal Khoo Thwe's "Land of the Green Ghosts", a thoroughly different book and, though this author is proudly Paduang and not Burmese he is exiled by the same regime and was born within the area the map calls Burma and the regime call Myanmar, he is another obviously talented author writing for historical fact rather than easier populist sales targets, another writer capable of telling the larger story.
Another brain that, it seems to me, should not be a voice from the outside calling in, another mind whose inclusion in the nation building process may be of benefit for all in the dis-united union.
That I make my point clumsily, without anything approaching the elegance of the above mentioned authors points me towards my closing subject, the putting of me in my literary place...
...I've read some books, I pride myself on a vocabulary - some self invented, some vernacular - that is broad, wide ranging and international, I even (pretentiously, it tuns out) punctuate my SMS text messages and am perversely proud when the spell checker rejects a word I know to be spelled correctly (even if used incorrectly).
On reading The River of Lost Footsteps I was once again reminded that I have an engineering degree and that I waste my evenings watching American sit. com.s, my lack of depth of knowledge of the English language and literature was bought home to me.
Firstly I learned two new words - autarkic and palimpsest.
Secondly I learned - from a reviewer whose name suggests an origin within geographical Myanmar, Ko Ko Thett - that Thant Myint-U got the name of his history from a piece by Kipling. Thett noted:
"When Rudyard Kipling first saw the Irrawaddy River in 1889, he wrote: ‘I reflected that I was looking upon the river of lost footsteps—the road that so many men of my acquaintance had travelled, never to return, within the past three years.’"
...and quoted within the book is a poem that George Orwell wrote in 1925 that made me smile - though on searching for its origins I am reminded that it may not have been intended as humourous which makes sense as Orwell is not normally a bundle of joy - again to the bargain basement, three for a pound, literary pile for me.
Still, I smiled whether I was supposed to or not!
In far-off Mandalay
I lost my heart to a Burmese girl
As lovely as the day.
Her skin was gold, her hair was jet,
Her teeth were ivory;
I said, "For twenty silver pieces,
Maiden, sleep with me."
She looked at me, so pure, so sad,
The loveliest thing alive,
And in her lisping, virgin voice,
Stood out for twenty-five.
Posted by John Roberts at Mon, 26 Nov 2007 07:13:00 GMT 
Categories: Book Review, Public Service Broadcast
Categories: Book Review, Public Service Broadcast
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