Is it because the very experience of exclusion impassions the gay Singaporean? Is it because gay men tend to be articulate and creative? Is the latter stereotype really true?

Whatever the reason, it is delicious irony that much of the representation of Singapore to itself and to the world is mediated through gay people. And I will wager that in time, much of what future Singaporeans know of our history will be through the works left by its gay pariahs.

Just recently, in the issue dated 28 November 2007, Time magazine featured one of Singapore's leading poets, Cyril Wong, who "relishes waving 'a purple flag' in socially conservative faces." Another poet from a different generation, the late Arthur Yap, considered among the best poets Singapore has ever produced, was also gay; you cannot understand many of his works without knowing that. [1] 

Ask around who Singaporeans think is the most inventive filmmaker today, whose films regularly make their way to film festivals around the world, and the name Royston Tan comes up. Guess what? He's gay. And he's not the only filmmaker who is.

As for playwrights, gee, I wouldn't know where to begin. Perhaps we can start with Alfian Sa'at and Eleanor Wong, and you can google from there.

* * * * *

 
Due to globalisation, the notion of "Singapore" no longer stops at our shores. Many Singaporeans live and work abroad; many others who grew up here have chosen to leave for good. Yet, neither do they wish to, nor can, completely erase their origins.

Today we talk about Singapore's "second wing" when referring to the diaspora. However, not long ago, the trope was "stayers and quitters". Whichever it is, it's not a fully resolved part of the national story and it will not be until the participants in the process write of their experiences.

One who is writing is ex-Singaporean, now naturalised British citizen, Johann S Lee (right). His second novel, To know where I'm coming from should be out in the shops around now. It tells the story of a Ben Goh, the only son of an upper class "District 10" family who left Singapore to study law in Britain and never returned.

At 30, Ben meets Rob, a relationship that lasts 7 years. It's not an untypical one. They are two persons with quite different personalities, Ben the more organised, Rob, a dancer, more likely to go with his feelings. They try their best, but like all relationships, they struggle with the ideal of communicating. As all of us know, in any healthy relationship, some subjects need to be discussed, but often, in the very raising of a subject a whole cascade of doubts and misassumptions is triggered. And so, whatever it is, is left unsaid.

When his relationship comes crashing down, Ben decides he needs a change of scene, and so takes a long holiday back here in Singapore with his best friend Holly. While she discovers Singapore for the first time, he rediscovers a place that in some ways has changed dramatically, and in other ways, not at all. He encounters a new gay phenomenon in theatre, in digital space and in activism, even as the laws and bans are still in place. He meets old friends that have stayed to make a difference and new friends who have turned out gayer than he himself thought possible for a place like the Singapore he knew.

One of them is Peter. There is a chemistry between the two of them, but can there be a future? Ben's home is London -- and he had made up his mind 15 years ago that it would be so -- while Peter's is Singapore. Can the diaspora truly reconnect?

And then there's family, especially parents who are getting on in age, with illness around the corner. Where does one strike the balance between personal aspirations and family obligations, when one wants to be 10,800 km from the other?

* * * * *

The name Johann S Lee may be familiar to some Singaporeans. His first novel Peculiar Chris topped the local bestseller list for several weeks when it came out in 1992. Though he has often referred to it as "my embarrassing adolescent ramblings", it was a book that made an enormous impact on a generation of gay boys in Singapore, being the first gay-themed novel ever written by a Singaporean.

Alfian Sa'at used it as his muse when he wrote Happy Endings, staged last July by Wild Rice Theatre, directed by Ivan Heng, to, well, wild success.

Lee came back for the gala and was so moved, not only by the stage production, but by everything else he saw about gay Singapore, including Indignation, the gay pride season, that when he got back to the UK, he threw himself into a frenzy of writing, despite not having written anything in the 15 years since Peculiar Chris.

The outcome in a mere two months was To know where I'm coming from. It's a much more mature book than the first, but the talent for telling a story with honesty and enrapturement is still very much there. There's a flow and deftness with language, but more: he provides a glimpse of how someone who has left Singapore might view and feel the Singapore of today, and in so doing, he fleshes out the dilemma of being of Singapore but out of it.

And yet, still wanting to be part of it.

I was challenged by a friend as to whether it is a good idea to 'limit' this book by self-labelling it as a 'gay novel'. In fact, I am being more specific than that -- this is a Singaporean gay novel.

-- Johann S Lee

Thank goodness for that.

One day, I think it is safe to bet, this novel will be on the required reading list for Singapore students, even if some people might turn in their grave, or more likely in the Singapore context, stew in their urn. It will be on that list precisely because it is suspended in the tension between being gay and being Singaporean, being away and being connected; precisely because it captures a moment in our shared national history.

© Yawning Bread