By Zhang Ruihe

Tall Tales and MisAdventures of a Young Westernized Oriental Gentleman
Goh Poh Seng
NUS Press (2015) / 214 pages / SGD 24

Not quite memoir, not quite fiction — it is hard to find a neat classification for this collection of 'short stories' by one of Singapore's literary pioneers, based on Goh Poh Seng's experiences as a medical student and aspiring poet in 1950s Dublin. "Memories transformed by the artist's imagination" — this description, given in Martin Ware's foreword, suggests that these stories can be read as 'creative nonfiction', with the literary licence sometimes implied by this generic category. In other words, we can assume these narratives to be broadly 'true', faithful to Goh's experiences in spirit, if not in literal detail.

The issue of how to approach this collection is further complicated by the circumstances of its composition and publication. We are told that Goh "was working on this book when he passed away" and had been living with Parkinson's disease for over four years by the time he conceived of this project. It had begun as a novella ('One Summer at Choch na Rón', included in this collection), after which he started work on what was intended to be a novel, but later became the sequence of shorter pieces collected in this book. Goh's family authorised the book's publication, but it is probably safe to say that the collection as it stands now does not fully reflect its author's best and final intentions for the work.

With these caveats in place, what, then, can be said about these stories? That the narrator looks back on his youth with a mix of generosity, indulgence, and self-deprecating humour is clear from the title; there is enough ironic distance between the narrator and the portrait of the artist as a young man who tells 'tall tales' and gets himself into 'misadventures'. Even the final chapter, mock-heroically referencing T.S. Eliot's 'Prufrock' ('Do I Dare To Eat A Peach?') and ending with Goh rather melodramatically giving up his medical studies to pursue his literary calling, is quietly prefaced by a photograph with the simple caption: "After a year in London, Goh Poh Seng returned to Dublin and completed his medical degree at UCD."

All this might be a familiar enough story of youthful high jinks, if not for the extraordinary milieu in which the younger Goh finds himself, and his openness to experience and friendship. Dublin in the 1950s proves to be an apt crucible for Goh's self-discovery and development as a writer. Ireland's post-colonial political consciousness is particularly resonant for Goh in light of the pro-independence movements taking place concurrently in post-war Southeast Asia, and its literary scene facilitates his encounters with luminaries like Patrick Kavanagh and Samuel Beckett, which would influence the direction of his artistic journey. Goh's discovery of his literary vocation is accompanied by a heightened awareness of the ironies of the colonial subject writing in the language of his colonial masters. This awareness often comes at the price of humiliation, or at least embarrassment: he is introduced to Beckett as a 'Chinaman', and the account of his on-off encounters with Kavanagh ends with a description of a meeting with W.B. Yeats' sister, in which she dismisses his poetry as unlikely to be 'any good' because he is an Oriental writing in English. Part of the task of becoming a poet, then, will involve un-learning the inferiority complex that, according to Goh, "colonials adrift in the West" like himself were familiar with.

Rubbing shoulders with the literary greats asides, more interesting — to this reviewer at least — are the accounts of Goh's encounters with the many remarkable people he seems to have attracted into his life, by luck, coincidence, or perhaps just the sheer force of his personality. That the young Goh came across as an extremely confident, even headstrong, young man who was game for almost anything, and that this was something he took pride in even when he was much older, is clear from the relish with which he tells these stories. Peopled by artists, socialites, and other larger-than-life characters who often share Goh's openness and who, like him, often push at the boundaries of what was deemed 'appropriate' for those in their 'station', these anecdotes paint a vivid picture of the heady atmosphere Goh moved in. Little wonder, then, that he continued telling these stories even in his old age, and that he felt compelled to compile them in written form for posterity, even while suffering from a serious and debilitating illness.

What strikes me most strongly about this collection is its candour and the no-holds-barred quality of its confessions. Youthful indiscretions and wannabe heroics are described with equal gusto, and through all of it runs a singular self-assurance that is perhaps what makes an artist — that, together with an openness to all the world has to offer, without prejudice or judgement. In any case, this volume is a valuable addition to Singapore literature, a record of a writer's coming of age in a time of global transition and revolution. Fans of Goh's work will appreciate the glimpse into the events and encounters that made him who he was as a writer. And those who are not so familiar with his oeuvre may well find themselves intrigued enough to begin exploring his other, less personally revealing, literary works.

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