Juan, Anne, Yisheng, and Aaron showed up for the screening. We discussed the ambivalence towards lesbianism depicted in the film. It’s generally a positive portrayal although the sex scenes appear to be fetishized for a male heterosexual audience. While the film inherited this flaw from the book, we wondered why there is no positive portrayal of men. We also talked about the colonial period the film is set in and if the director is making a statement about Korea. Finally, we discussed the film technique, camera movements, and the prevalence of green color in the film. I guess green is the warmest color for Park.
Category Archives: Countries
A cozy, intimate discussion between Timmy and Aaron, like when the book club first started.
We discussed about:
-the run-on, stream-of-consciousness sentence structure.
-whether it’s dated (Timmy said parts are, Aaron thinks it’s refreshing).
-the sex: there are all kinds of sex, they can initially be sexy but eventually become farcical and comedic. It also seems like the sex acts define the person; we remember the character by recalling what sex acts he engages in. Sex is also separated from love, but it is also sex without shame.
-characters are doubles of each other, no distinct personality (Winnie and Timmy, Wyatt and Bon Bon, etc). They become one-dimensional, commercialized images, but there is also an insistence on the body.
-the issue of gay men with their fathers.
-although the gay men seem to be in living hell, the ending is a silver lining with Fred Lemish having a epiphany of what he wants.
Timmy concluded that although he didn’t like the book, he urged everyone to read it once as an initiation into the gay world.
The best part about this book was how real it was. The worst part about this book was how real it was. Unanimously, both attendees of October’s book club meeting (Raj and Veronika – yes I totally procrastinated writing this because in true Veronika fashion I turned up without finishing the book) agreed that the raw, unfiltered writing was what enthralled and revolted both of us. I was hooked from the very first paragraph-long sentence, from the very first string of Brooklyn vulgarities, from the unabashed pervasive violence and from the flagrant defiance of conventional punctuation, sentence separation and spelling rules by Hubert Selby Jr. His immersive writing meant that we felt very much a part of this obscene world.
The fact that it was banned by British courts in 1967 made me excited to read it, though after reading a couple of explicitly violent scenes that honestly caused bile to rise in my throat, I can see how discretion is advised for sensitive readers.
Raj and I, being the only two who turned up, spoke at leisure about many aspects of the book. Raj has been to Brooklyn, and was able to say that the book was ‘very Brooklyn’ with authority.
We talked about the absence of religion in the book.
We talked about how what little love was depicted in the book was sadistic, sick and nauseating to read of.
We talked about how territorial the Brooklyn in the book was and how brassy the sex scenes were. We lingered on the idea of masculinity and how regardless of whether the characters were straight, gay, transgender or drag, they made a show of their masculine base, be it their brawns or their brains – the drag queens constantly needed to spar with their words or outshine with their wit.
We talked about the lack of any strong female characters, how the female characters resonated throughout as resourceful women who took on the childbearing roles, provided for the family (when the men mostly didn’t), who stuck to ‘their’ men through thick and thin (even when abused) and who generally had no self-respect as they conflated their domestic roles with martyrship.
Oh boy did we talk about Tralala. Raj pointed out how she was the only empowered woman in the book, and how even so, she seemed to be more of a ‘man trapped in a woman’s body’. We talked about how the men get bashed but never raped, and we talked about how irresistibly grotesque her insatiable sexuality was to read, and there was a tone of awe, maybe even respect with which we talked about how little she cared as she died.
We talked about how only tough queers were shown. Weak fragile queers were not shown, only weak women. Yet we didn’t raise the idea that Selby Jr. was a misogynist, just an accurate writer portraying an uncomfortably real world.
We also spoke at length about Harry. I initially hated him, but as Raj spoke about how, dislikable as Harry may be, he was an important to the union precisely because he was a convenient target of dislike by the corporate people, I started to, well, not like, but at least not thoroughly hate his character.
And of course, we enjoyed Raj’s Brooklyn-themed spread, with the beer cocktail, meatballs, sausages and cheese melts. Unfortunately, not a single bennie was in sight.
Attendees: Veronika, Raj, Aaron, Ben, Bien, Thomas.
We all like the movie very much. All characters are likeable; it’s a movie full of likeable and strong characters, a sympathetic portrayal of all of them. There is much joy and humor in the film, just as there is sadness, as if the director wants the viewers to cry; there is so much sadness that you are bound to identify with one of the character’s plight. We also talked about social class; the treatment and affirmation of sexuality; the feminism; and who is cuter: Arjun or Rahul?
Thanks Edwin for hosting us at DYMK.
This was the night when minority races were racists, starting with Raj saying “All Chinese homes have prawn crackers what!” With the Chinese theme, we had beer cocktail, dumplings, mooncakes, and eclairs.
Attendance included Veronika, Pierre, Calvin, Chams, Raj, Timmy, Asyraf, and Aaron.
We asked questions about the authorship as Asyraf noted that it felt like a female writing fan fic, not unlike the Japanese boys love manga genre, written by women, for women. Chams wondered if the book would be more organic in its Chinese format.
1. Death: Most of us expressed our disappointment at diabolus ex machina of the sudden death of Lan Yu when they are about to live happily ever after. Pierre noted the trope of the time. Chams claimed that the sad ending makes the story more poignant. Raj playfully suggested that perhaps that author is saying that the person who screws around is better for survival (in Raj’s words, “Cheebyes always live”), although Pierre rightly noted that we were assuming that staying alive is a good thing.
Aaron brought up the history of sad endings. EM Forster wanted a happy ending for Maurice, but the only way he could envision them together was to remove them for society, staying in isolation in the woods. Like Forster, Bei Tong just couldn’t envision a happy ending in the 80s. Veronika pointed that that this is especially true in the age of HIV/AIDS in the 80s. Han Dong associates sexual diseases with angmohs, Raj noted.
2. Communism, Money, and Love: There are several communist references in the book: Asyraf noticed that Han Dong means “defend Mao Ze Dong” and Chams said Han Dong is conformist, when compared to Lan Yu.
Aaron noted that in the postscript, Bei Tong wrote that she was surprised to come across such strong love existing in a capitalist society like USA. In short, Beijing Comrades argues that money is bad for true love, that is, a true form of communism is actually good for love.
Timmy said, “Chey. So typical of Chinese. You Chinese love money, you can talk about money the entire day. Lan Yu is the true Malay, giving up money for love.”
Raj chimed in, “Yeah la, Chinese people are very good at saving money.”
Asyraf shrewdly noted the irony: Han Dong embodies a good communist, and he hates anything Western (from angmohs to their food), and yet he is so good at earning money, and he uses money to buy boys.
3. Communism and sexuality: Calvin informed us the tension between Confucianism and communism. Communism wished to get rid of old “gods” and so Confucianism wasn’t popular. And Beijing Comrades exemplifies this tension. While communism means that people are equally valued for their production value, that is to say that being gay is ok since sexuality is not important in work, China is essentially a Confucian society in terms of being filial and producing heirs.
It is such a society that we see a shocking scene. Han Dong’s mother cries, and Han Dong says his love for Lan Yu is not as important as his mother’s wellbeing. Chams saw it as Han Dong taking the path of least resistance, as he is a conformist. Veronika put herself in Han Dong’s shoes and agrees with Han Dong’s thinking.
4. Gender: Seen in the communist/capitalist light, Raj notes that most people are commodities. Boys are bought for sex; women have sex with rich men who are potential husbands; and in a sense, women are seeing rich men as commodities.
We also talked about Han Dong leaving the curvy woman for the slim Lin Ping. Timmy scoffed, “Chey, so typical of Chinese.” Raj added, “Yeah la, Chinese fuck Malays and Indians, but marry Chinese in the end.” HAHAHA. How come so much Chinese bashing one?
In any case, there is much complexity about gender in the book. But since only two of us read the book fully, we didn’t delve deeply.
5. Sexuality: In the essay attached to the end of the novel, Petrus Liu argues that because Han Dong doesn’t believe in labels, “Han Dong stands as an example of a failed gay identity” (379). But Asyraf, Calvin, and Veronika called on Liu’s narrowmindedness: Han Dong by sleeping with everyone is bisexual or polyamorous; just because he’s not absolutely gay does not mean it’s a “failed” identity. Aaron also said that Liu uses a Eurocentric point of view on Han Dong. Han Dong needs to overcome societal and familial pressures, which he does in the end, and admits he is gay eventually, even if he lacks courage to live the life. Isn’t an acknowledgement of his gay self an affirmative identity even if it doesn’t adhere to the Western notions of screaming to be out-and-proud?
Petrus Liu also claims that since Lan Yu stumbles upon being gay–as Asyraf puts it succinctly that Lan Yu doesn’t choose to be gay–Lan Yu has a “non-identity” (379). But we disagreed with Liu. Obviously Lan Yu has a choice. He rejects a violent advance, and psychoanalysis, as Pierre noted. We also observed that Lan Yu goes out to find gay friends; you’re gay when you choose to make friends in the gay community. That is an identity.
6. Sex: Besides sleeping with men and women, Han Dong sleeps with “Annie” (drag queen) and HJ (guitarist who wears makeup). Why does Han Dong sleep with men he is not attracted to, Aaron asked. Both Raj and Pierre said that because Han Dong doesn’t know how to deal with relationships, he is experimenting.
Are there too many explicit sex scenes? Raj said, “Yeah, what’s up with emphasizing Han Dong’s big cock?”
Timmy responded, “Yeah lah, it’s so un-Chinese.” When asked to clarify if big cocks are un-Chinese, or if writing about big cocks is un-Chinese, Timmy declined to answer.
Aaron admired the sex scenes because they defy the hush-hush taboo secrecy of Chinese society.
As we always want to end with a positive note, nobody had anything good to say, although everyone who didn’t read the book were persuaded to read the book. Chams said in the tiring world we live in, it’s good to read a trashy book to relax. Calvin liked the purity and steadfastness of Lan Yu. Although Pierre said the book is dated, Aaron felt that it has captured a cultural zeitgeist at a particular point in history; he could identify with the struggles of Han Dong (“The struggle is real!); and the complexity of gay relationship between Han Dong and Lan Yu is universal and still relevant to reflect on our own modern gay relationships. Love is timeless.
Started the debauched evening with African wines and negativity for the book. K wished she understood the illustrations; F wanted more lesbian stories; Pe thought the sex should be less explicit, more symbolic; Pi had nothing to critique; Aa believed it to be egoistic and narcissistic, all stories told in the same voice, and hence unimaginative; T, R, and B agreed that the stories are Teflon and don’t stick to memory; and in addition, T thought the stories to be miserable with little triumph, all about oppression from racism, “refugee-ism,” Islamophobia, homophobia.
1. Corporeality: B quoted the last two sentences, “We own our bodies. We own our lives,” and informed us that criticism on the book revolves around the embodiment of sexuality. Sexuality is about bodies, graphic and corporeal, as evident in the story with two dancers. K wondered if a person doesn’t have sex, will they still be considered as homo/bi/trans? R and P claimed that thinking defines a person; R gave examples that nobody in the stories comes out because of the sex and most acts are not comfortable anyway whereas P evinced that the sex is just for release, people just “is”.
2. Religion: Ab, B, and F shared their religious experiences. Aa argued that the book presents a lose-lose situation: the book shows that you can either be glbtq or Muslim, but sexuality and Islam are mutually exclusive. P said that the book is based on the writer’s experience and doesn’t need to answer the sexuality/religion conundrum while B cautioned against universalizing the author’s experience.
3. Refugee: B asked what we made of the refugee theme in the book. Aa dismissed it as the author playing on liberal White guilt.
4. Sex: While Pe thought the sex is excessive, K liked the guiltless sex. R reminded us of the homophobic discourse that gay men are promiscuous, all about the bass. B explained that the sex challenges notions of stability.
5. Others: B pointed out the conundrum that silence about one’s sexuality leads to suffering, but if you’re honest, it leads to exile from the community. He also championed the book for its anti-heteronormativity, and anti-homonormativity.
B informed us that critics say the book has an “abundance of style.”
T riposted, “Style what style?”
1. Pi, Pe, and Aa felt that the style is very Singaporean from a post-colonial tone, although K cautioned that post-colonial literatures are diverse.
B suggested that the Creole mixture of language might explain the similarity with Singapore literature.
2. Aa hated the voice because it’s jejune, narcissistic and egoistic—as if it is written by a very talented 18 year-old blogger—and as a result, it’s unimaginative. Although P agrees that all stories speak like they are one person, it’s imaginative in a schizophrenic manner.
Pe and Pi had none.
“Watering the Imagination” (T) because positive
“Pavilion” (T, R, Aa): empowering
“If I were a Dance”: empowering, rising out of the fire (F), comedic and sad (B)
“Earthling”: discusses schizophrenia/mental illness in GLBTQ community (K)
“Shoga”: because of the uninhibited sex (B)
Pe, T, R had none.
Hot gardener in “Shoga” (Pi)
Dad in “Fairytales for Lost Children” (B)
Dancer in “If I were a dance” (S)
Nurse in “Pavilion” (K)
Curvy guy in “The Other (Wo)Man” (Aa)
Things we like about the book:
R had none.
Arabic title (T)
Culture mash-up (Pe)
Growing pains and angst, like an emo Singaporean kid (P)
it’s fuck-up, so it makes our lives seem better. It’s a feel-bad, feel-good book (F)
Sex (K and B)
Ab, who didn’t read the book, said he would read it after listening to our discussion.
We were a lively, loquacious bunch: Pierre, Mona, Liz, Sharad, Raj, Brian, Alex, Javin, Veronica, and Aaron.
We started the discussion with whether it’s better to watch the film first, or read the book first. S and B had different opinions. B found the space in the film important, especially the personal space the Grandma needs away from Jack.
P was insistent that Ma should have committed suicide before the birth of the child. Why wait till the hospital? B argued that Ma doesn’t commit suicide because of Jack; she has no existence before Jack. “Is this sexist to depict that a woman’s existence lies in her motherhood?” Almost everyone in the group replied negative, but Aa and P weren’t so sure it isn’t sexist.
When asked what we didn’t like about the novel: R, V, Aa, P, M all thought it was densely packed, full of many noun-things. Aa called the novel unimaginative and predictable, which V disagreed. B said that the brother is superfluous. V thought the breastfeeding should have been developed later in the novel. L commented the story is isolated in its world, divorced from other current events. Al thought it is the bestest book ever.
We talked a lot on fatherhood. B noted that fatherhood in Room is more complex than motherhood, because there are different types of fathers whereas mothers seem giving. V said that the Father’s rejection of Jack adds to Ma’s guilt. We also questioned why Ma doesn’t allow Jack to interact with his father, but S and B bored us and we didn’t pay attention. Something about attachment/abuse theory, Jack as a form of pure extension of Ma which she must keep sacred, but it seems going into the sexist rhetoric that a woman is unpure after rape.
Another theme we talked about was media. Hey, wanna netflix and chill? Donoghue claims Room is part “a satire of modern mores and media.” We should have discussed more on it.
We also discussed a scene where a gay couple appear. S, P, and Aa thought it is a manipulative scene, bludgeoning our heads with the message that children know no sexuality and can love a boy or a girl. The other members protested, and called the trio cynical.
On favorite characters, everyone seemed to love the Grandma and the step granddad, except for Al. Al thought the grandma represents the normalizing, heteronormative force of society; she teaches Jack how to be normal. Gross, right? L and J liked the kid and mother. Aa liked the reporter but he was booed by everyone—we are a pretty “democratic” book club. Al liked Raja the dog and the Room as a character.
R claimed Ma uses Jack as a pawn to get Sunday treats. The rapist giving Sunday treats and not depicted as a complete villain: L said, “The worst kind of evil has some good in it.” She was on a roll and had several good epigrams that night.
V pointed that the rape is not dealt with directly and B said that circumventing the topic is a sophisticated way of dealing with the topic: it’s a traumatic experience, one of the worst things that can happen to a woman, but yet it’s not the be-all, and end-all of a person’s life.
On narrative structure, Aa asked if it is strange to have the climax of the story in the middle of the book, and V said it is more thrilling after the climax. V also liked the child narrator, arguing that it’s a convincing voice.
How about the ending? Is it a good ending? Ma and Jack treat the room differently; Ma hates it but it is Jack’s world. L wondered if it is an allegory for wanting to return to the mother’s womb.
S views the moral of the story differently. He sees J as a carte blanche using concepts to understand the world: he uses different concepts to deal with situations in the room and in the world. The message of the story is not to have a message.
V ended the discussion by aptly summing up: it’s a feel bad, feel good book, a book that makes you see how awful the world is so that you feel that you’re lucky.
These are some of the topics that Aa had on hand, but there was no chance to bring them up:
-Queerness of Jack
-Sexuality of mother
-why is Old Nick deliberately kept out of the picture?
-psychiatrist and nurse
-Universality of the experience?
-Donoghue says that Room is “a battle between Mary and Devil for young Jesus.” How so?
-Room is inspired by Austrian case of Josef Fritzl, who locked up his own daughter whose son escaped at age of 5. James Wood, New Yorker critic, said this adaptation is “exploitative and a little cheap.” “The real victim’s imaginings and anxieties,” Wood argues, “must have been abysmal, in the original sense (unimaginable, bottomless), and the novel’s sure-footed appropriation of this unknowability seems offensive precisely in its sure-footness.” Jack’s cheerfulness and charm “lend the book an inappropriate lightness.” Do you agree with him?