Laos

Mother's Beloved: Stories from Laos, Outhine Bounyavong
ແພງແມ່: ອຸທິນ ບຸນຍາວົງ, ອຸທິນ ບຸນຍາວົງ

A trip to Laos was the opportunity to add this Southeast-Asian country to my list. An amazing and multifaceted country with virtually no fictional available in translation (my Lao is pretty rusty). A hunt through world-reader lists all suggested Mother's Beloved as their Laotian entry, and the bookshops I visited when I was there confirmed that this is the only book of fiction by a Laotian author available in English translation. As explained by the book's foreword, fiction simply hasn't been a longstanding part of Laotian culture, with most educated elites reading French classics in the past and traditional stories transmitted through oral storytelling traditions, drama, and song. 

I usually don't much enjoy reading lengthy forewords and always feel that I'd rather just dive into the book, despite the important and pertinent information a foreward usually contains. This was very much the case for Mother's Beloved, where the foreword was particularly revealing. It explained that after the communist revolution, writers became State employees who were charged with making the revolution's ideology accessible to the nation's people. Knowing that went a long way to explaining the short stories in the book as moralistic fables. It was interesting that a lot of the topics addressed still seemed very contemporary, such as the threat of war and environmental degradation. 

The simple stories tell of ordinary Laotian people and their customs, providing a window into the country's transformations and values following a period of upheaval. 

Australia

Jasper Jones
Craig Silvey

In checking geographically large Australia off the list, my world map now seems a lot more filled in, although there are +100 countries still to go.

This book came highly recommended by my better half, who cited it as a favourite. Many thanks for the suggestion, as I did indeed enjoy this book set in a small Australian town in the 1960s. The book's protagonist, Charlie, is a bookish, quiet type who is suddenly visited one night by the town's outcast, a rebellious mixed-race teenage troublemaker, begging Charlie for help.

Growing up in a small Canadian town, I found there was a lot I could relate to in the books themes – although frequent references to cricket naturally left me baffled. Craig Silvey, the author, was really quite masterful in creating the feeling of small town tension, where everyone is in everyone's business, minds are narrow, and the urge to escape weighs heavy.

Although the narratives of the books are very different, I found it interesting that my choice for neighbouring New Zealand, Once Were Warriors, also touches on many of the same themes of racism, an oppressive society, and the outsider's struggle.

Thailand II

Jasmine Nights
S.P. Somtow

With so many countries to read through, it seems almost insanity to be doubling back on a country, especially so early on in my literary travels. But part of travelling is seeing where the journey takes you. In this case, I was in Thailand for work and happened to be absent-mindedly flipping through my guidebook, as I am wont to do while eating my meals. I happened to come to the "Books" section of the guide, which mentions S.P. Somtow as "the J.D. Salinger of Siam". That certainly piqued my interest. Later, during a bit of free time one evening, I happened to wander into a bookstore and saw Jasmine Nights on display. I knew I was fated to read this book.

Interestingly, both Jasmine Nights and Four Reigns, my first entry for Thailand, are set in the same world of minor aristocrats and the Thai élite living in estates in Bangkok of the past. Four Reigns happens over a lifetime, ending in 1946, with Jasmine Nights picking up a bit later in 1963 and happening over just a few weeks. With televisions and the Vietnam War, modernity is a bit more present in this conflict of East meets West. The conflict, however, is not one of events, or people, but, interestingly, an internal one to the protagonist, who, despite being Thai, speaks only in English and insists his aunts and relatives call him Justin.

A funny coming of age story that was definitely worth my detour back to Thailand.

Albania

The Three-Arched Bridge, Ismail Kadare
Ura me tri harqe

A summer holiday in enigmatic Albania some years ago prompted the purchase of this book by Ismail Kadare, the leading literary figure of the country. Living and writing through the extreme and autocratic dictatorship of Enver Hoxha, he evaded politics (and scrutiny) by cloaking much of his fiction in history and folklore.

Very much in this vein, The Three-Arched Bridge is set in 1377 and is based on a traditional Albanian legend. The story centres on a mysterious group of builders who arrive to construct a bridge over a raging river in the remote mountains of the country. This leads to conflict with local officials and with river boatmen who squabble incessantly with each other and with the builders about the bridge, oblivious to the crumbling Byzantine Empire around them and the march of the Ottomans into Europe.

The story can be read as a parable for the history of Albania, with three major ethnic groups, Muslims, Catholics, and Orthodox, living side by side. It can also be read as a moral commentary of the petty differences and disagreements between these groups having exposed the country exposed to vagaries of historical forces marching on the country from without. An interesting insight into quite an unknown country.

Russian Federation

One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn
Один день Ивана Денисовича, Александр Солженицын

A book I read rather a while ago that depressed the shit out of me. It follows titular character Ivan Denisovich as he lives the Kafkaesque nightmare of one average day in a Soviet gulag in Siberia. 

Most strangely to me was that, at the end of the book, Ivan feels his day has been productive, even "almost happy". He "went to sleep fully content. He'd had many strokes of luck that day." It's a real testament to how people can overcome misery. Perhaps the book is meant to be a triumph of the will, but mostly I came away from reading this with a dreadful feeling in the pit of my stomach about how people can be so cruel and malicious towards other human beings. – Not a easy beach read, to be sure.

I get the feeling that a lot of older Russian literature tends to be in this same vein of one person suffering through intolerable circumstances; think of Anna Karenina, Crime and Punishment, etc. I'd be quite interested to read something more contemporary to see if the literary undertones have changed with the times as Russia has changed. I see that Ann Morgan also read One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich for her Russia selection, but she also lists many contemporary writers for me to check out in the future. 

South Africa

Embrace
Mark Behr

Behr is another writer like my Bangladesh entry, Monica Ali, who is a bit hard to pin to one country. Behr was born on a farm family in Tanzania back when it was still known as Tanganyika. After the nationalisation of white-owned farms in 1964, his family emigrated to South Africa. He did most of his schooling there then served in the Angolan War, and lives now in the United States. His books deal largely with South Africa – his first was even written in Afrikaans – and since I don't have any other South African writers in my wheelhouse, I'll count this Tanzania-born, USA-residing author as my South Africa entry, for now at least. 

I read this book quite some time ago and didn't really remember much about it, certainly not the title or the author or anything helpful like that. Initially I thought it might be by South Africa's literary star, J.M. Coetzee. I had to go through descriptions of all of his books before determining that, no, it wasn't him. I was a bit stumped and had to do quite a bit of Internet sleuthing with various combinations of the only things I remembered about the book: "South Africa", "boarding school", "LGBT theme", before eventually teasing the title out of the web.

The other thing that I do remember taking away from this book is how well white South Africans lived in the 1970s when the book was set: teachers driving Volvos, students listening to Bang & Olufsen stereos in  the school's music room, that kind of stuff. I guess that's what you get when a small group oppresses and exploits everyone else. I'm looking forward to reading a book set in the period since then to see how much has changed.

United Kingdom

The Swimming Pool Library
Alan Hollinghurst

A novel set in the privileged world of upper-crust 1980s London, with the protagonist, Will, saving the life of an elderly aristocrat having a heart attack in a public lavatory, setting off the chain of events told in The Swimming Pool Library. 

Hollinghurst's narration is beguiling and vivid, evoking with effortless precision and clarity places most of us will have never experienced. Colonial Sudan and a London gentlemen's club arrive quickly on the page and clearly in one's mind, only to be replaced by other delicate and rich descriptions of people or actions or thoughts. A real pleasure to read. It was one of those few books that, on reaching the end, I wanted the story to keep going. In fact, it seemed as though the story was only getting started by the time I turned the last page. 

I have read some other Hollinghurst in the past, and I shall reserve a space on my bookshelf for some more in the future.

India

The Moor's Last Sigh
Salman Rushdie

I was a big Salman Rusdie junkie when I was younger, and avidly ready all his books. On a number of occasions, I even sought out reader guides to better appreciate and understand the intricacies of his stories and their settings.

For reasons unknown however I never got around to reading his more recent books when they were published. I've had his 2001 book Fury sitting on my bookshelf unread for years. Perhaps with some twinge of a guilty concious, I dusted one of my favourites off the bookshelf a while ago and revisited this family saga that stretches down from the spice-traders of yore through India's independence and to the modern day.

As is often the case in Rushdie's books,the story and the characters act as a parable for India and her history. In this case, following the narrator, Moraes Zogoiby, aka "Moor", as he moves from his families spice warehouses in Cochin to the heights of Bombay's glitterati and the depths of a life on the lamb in sun-scorched Andalusia. It's a grand struggle between good and evil, with the Moor as allegory for India itself.

A friend recently posted this very interesting article about the state of Indian literature in India. It pointed out that the most celebrated Indian authors, Salman Rushdie included, come to India by way of the West. These authors were published and became popular in the West first before being imported back to India. Homegrown Indian authors are actually few and far between.

Afghanistan

The Kite Runner
Khaled Hosseini

I just watched the film for the book a few days ago and I was reminded of how dreadfully disheartened I was reading this book. While there is redemption and hope, mostly there is a full-plate serving of sadness reading The Kite Runner. – Not that that should put any off reading it; life is sometimes sad and this story beautifully told.

As I had read this quite a number of years ago now, when it first came out on the bestseller list, I was intrigued to see what Ann Morgan had come up with for her Afghan entry. Perhaps unsurprisingly, she had a hard time escaping the ubiquitousness of Hosseini in Afghani writing. Despite a native narrative tradition stretching back a thousand years, and a daily presence in news stories for more than a decade, Afghanistan has always been something of literary hermit kingdom. With the success of Hosseini's writing, hopefully more avenues will open for new Afghan writers to emerge in the future.

Sri Lanka

Cinnamon Gardens
Shyam Selvadurai

Selvadurai is a Sri Lankan–Canadian author whose first book, Funny Boy, won a slew of awards, including the Books in Canada First Novel Award. It's coming-of-age story set in Sri Lanka where Selvadurai grew up. As with any hyphenated writer who's lived in more than one country, I faced the question of where I should considered them to be "from". Selvadurai was born to a Sinhalese mother and a Tamil father, which led his family to emigrate to Canada during the interethnic tension of the Sri Lankan civil war when Selvadurai was 19. Since Selvadurai spent his formative years in Sri Lanka, and sets his novels all there, I figure he is a safe bet for my Sri Lanka entry. I would, however, be particularly interested in reading some authors writing in the post-civil-war period to understand how the country has been affected by that dreadful conflict.

Funny Boy is set in the run-up to this turbulent period, which is when my family also lived in Sri Lanka. As such, it had a particular resonance for me that I didn't find in Cinnamon Gardens, which is set in the high-society world of colonial-era Sri Lanka in the 1920s. Cinnamon Gardens traces the story of two relatives struggling to find their way in the genteel but overbearing manners and social graces of the period, à la Jane Austen, which I've since learned was an inspiration for the book.

Selvadurai has a new book, The Hungry Ghosts, which follows on with many of the same themes of sexuality, ethnicity, and identity in Sri Lanka. Something to pick up for my upcoming Chinese New Year trip to the Sri Lankan beach?

Lebanon

Beirut Blues, Hanan al-Shaykh
حنان الشيخ  بريد بيروت

I really had the most difficult time remembering the title of this book when I was compiling the list of countries I'd already read. I picked up this book by chance off a bookshop shelf when I was at uni, drawn by the look of the cover, with its airmail envelop chevrons and stamps. – I can confirm that it is quite difficult to find a book when all you remember is the cover!

Eventually, with a bit of applied thought, I remembered that the author was a woman, which narrowed down the field of possibilities rather considerably. Hanan al-Shaykh was born into a conservative Muslim family; this would influence her writing considerably which often focuses on the place women in Arab society.

Beirut Blues, translated into English by Catherine Cobham, is written as a series of letters – whence the cover which so captivated me – by a woman struggling to make sense of her life and the world in war-ravaged Beirut. She must choose between staying in Beirut's dangers and frustrations, or emigrating and leaving the country she loves behind.

Ireland

The Picture of Dorian Gray
Oscar Wilde

I read The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde's only novel, when I was in university and quite enamoured with someone who very much brought to mind the protagonist of this story.

But that was many moons ago now. I remember having difficulty imagining how or why this book was considered so salacious when it was first published. There are only vague hints of ambiguous allusions of faint whispers of anything even mildly indecorous. Those Victorians sensibilities were so easily aggrieved; I doubt I would do very well with such prudish bunch!

I've actually read Irish author Frank McCourt's Angela's Ashes much more recently. What a depressing story! So depressing, in fact, that it's disheartening to think that it's a memoir, with real suffering characters, rather than a work of fiction. For my reading the world project, I'd like to focus on fiction where possible, a rule that Ann Morgan had to bend a few times when nothing else was available. Given Ireland's long literary history, I'll stick with uni-times backtracking to The Picture of Dorian Gray for the time being.

Sweden

The Girl Who Saved the King of Sweden, Jonas Jonasson
Analfabeten som kunde räkna

I spent my New Year in Sweden this year with a group of Swedish friends I knew from Singapore who had moved back to their charming and snowy country. And, naturally, I wanted a book by a Swedish author to accompany me on my travels. 

Despite the fact that Sweden has a long literary history and a well-read population, I actually had quite a lot of trouble finding a Swedish book to read. Not that there aren't many Swedish authors, of course. In my searches, I found dozens and dozens of Swedish thrillers and hard-boiled detective stories. Stieg Larsson's Millennium trilogy comes to mind, but there are heaps of others. The genre isn't really my cup of tea, so I kept searching. Ann Morgan's choice, Montecore by Jonas Hassen Khemiri, seemed interesting – an award-winning book exploring the Swedish immigrant experience – but wasn't available here in Singapore from either bookshop or my usual online retailer.

My searching continued and eventually I came across Jonas Jonasson. I'm really surprised (by my poor searching skills?) that it took so long to come up with his name. Jonasson is the author of best-selling The Hundred-Year-Old Man Who Climbed Out the Window and Disappeared, which is now being made into a movie. I'd heard of that book, of course, but had no idea that the author was Swedish!

The Girl Who Saved the King of Sweden is a quirky, character-driven story that's hard not to like. I found myself chuckling along as I read about the exploits of Nombeko Mayeki, an illiterate orphan from Soweto who changes the fate of Sweden in the most whimsical and picaresque way. Tack så mycket, Sweden, from throwing this one my way!