By Yeow Kai Chai

As any self-respecting writer knows, behind every published work of his or hers is an army of minds and hands, not least those of the editor.

Over at Ethos Books, a brigade of young staff has been steering the ship since Ng Kah Gay took over operations from founder-publisher Fong Hoe Fang a few years ago. One particular editor, among the crew, stands out: Justin Chia.

Since joining Ethos in 2017 as project editor and then poetry editor, he has shown a keen eye for experimental fare, helming two eye-catching debut collections, Marylyn Tan's Gaze Back (2018) and Hamid Roslan's parsetreeforestfire (2019). Other publications he worked on included Interpreter of Winds, the 2019 debut collection of short stories by Fairoz Ahmad; and Memorandum, a 2020 collection of English-language translations of previously untranslated Chinese short fiction, edited by Quay Sy Ren and Hee Wai Siam, and translated by Tan Dan Feng.

Together with Boey Kim Cheng and Arin Alycia Fong, he also co-edited To Gather Your Leaving: Asian Diaspora Poetry from America, Australia, UK and Europe, a 2019 global anthology which examines new ways of looking at nation, culture, identity, and place.  Earlier this year, he conceptualised and delivered two sold-out Valentine's Day readings at The Projector, featuring Alfian Sa'at, Pooja Nansi, and Marylyn Tan, and hosted by Preetipls.

He has also taken over the reins of Ethos's marketing and publicity, and now writes and edits Ethos' weekly letter series which goes out every Saturday.

1) What are you reading right now?
The Art of Cruelty by Maggie Nelson. Maggie says:

Cruelty, as the Buddhists see it, is the far enemy of compassion. Compassion also has a near enemy – that is, an enemy that so closely resembles it that it can be difficult, albeit utterly crucial, to differentiate between them. This near enemy is called idiot compassion. I would like to understand more about compassion, and I am gambling that one way of doing so is to get to know its enemies, near and far.

2) If you were a famous literary character in a novel, play or poem, what would you be and why?
Can I be Sappho? Ideally, I'd like to be someone who is insouciantly hot but knowing my mind, I'm probably Sisyphus more than anything else.

3) What is the greatest misconception about you?
That I am 'alt' or outré, but know that I had to publicly piss in front of some rich dude's house earlier this year and it felt kinda exciting but also wrong. Take that as you will.

4) Name one living writer and one dead writer you most identify with, and tell us why.
Justin Chin, because I think we both share a misfit's heart and a boundless mind.

5) Name one classic novel in either the Western or Asian literary canon you wish you had published and tell us why.
I don't really think about literature in a greedy, acquisitory sense. Maybe it makes me a bad worker, but that is not where my interest lies.

6) You have been the editor/manager behind some of Singapore's more interesting poetry collections released of late, namely, Marylyn Tan's Gaze Back (2018) and Hamid Roslan's parsetreeforestfire (2019). What do you look out for in poetry manuscripts?
It's always hard to describe what you're looking for until you see it then it becomes like, duh, the most obvious thing in the entire world.

I think books that give the reader a sense of permission or a sense of freedom. That is really meaningful to me because it means that the work didn't just nominate, describe or give a good argument – it gave an affect or a feeling, that something previously thought to be foreclosed is now possible.

7) What qualities do you most admire in a writer?
Equanimity and nuance. But I guess it's difficult for all of us because writing itself seeks to assert.

8) What is one trait you most deplore in writing or writers?
I just ignore what I don't like. Maybe certitude? From my limited experience, those who think they know how the world should be are perhaps the most wrong.

9) If you could only give a piece of advice to an aspiring writer, what would it be?
We're just all madmen, madwomen, and mad people in-between writing these bizarre and beautiful things. Have pure intentions and you will find your way. 

10) Complete this sentence: Few people know this, but I...
…would love to be a chill surfer bro catching waves all day, and not thinking and feeling so much.

11) At the movies, if you have to pick a comedy, a tragedy or an action thriller to watch, which would you go for?
I don't really go to the movies anymore. But if I had to watch a film, it'd probably be something queer in form or content.

12) If (or when) you write a book, what would it be?
A book-length poem meditating on rabbits in art, history, philosophy and literature.

13) What is your favourite word, and what is your least favourite one?
I find a lot of contemporaneous language disgusting so take your pick from whatever is currently being senselessly repeated in our cultural landscape. 

Favourite word hmm… I think about "longing" a lot so let's go with that.

14) What is the one thing you would like to change most about the Singaporean literary scene?
I am a self-critic, but not a critic. If something is bad, just let it sail off into the ether. Most things are not worth our time.

15) In these challenging, coronavirus-stricken times, which writers, artists and/or works of art do you turn to for solace and sustenance, and why?
If you have the stillness of mind to read a book, I recommend On Immunity by Eula Biss. If not, this passage from Oliver Sacks' Awakenings (1973):

'Deep' accommodation, rest, care, ingenuity – all of these are essential ... But more important than all of them, and perhaps a prerequisite for all of them, is the establishment of proper relations with the world, and – in particular – with other human beings, or one other human being, for it is human relations which carry the possibilities of proper being-in-the-world. Feeling the fullness of the presence of the world depends on feeling the fullness of another person, as a person; reality is given to us by the reality of people; reality is taken from us by the unreality of un-people; our sense of reality, of trust, of security, is critically dependent on a human relation. A single good relation is a life-line in trouble, a pole-star and compass in the ocean of trouble: and we see, again and again, in the histories of these patients, how a single relation can extricate them from trouble. Kinship is healing; we are physicians to each other – 'A faithful friend is the physic of life' (Browne). The world is the hospital where healing takes place.

16) If you have a last supper, which three literary figures, real or fictional, would you invite to the soiree, and why?
I wouldn't call myself a cook so much as a microwaver and having three different strangers together based purely on my own projections about them seems like a surefire way of ratcheting up my social anxiety.

How about maybe just David Wojnarowicz? I listened to his audio diaries a lot; David's voice and presence feel very familiar to me in my head. We could have drinks, read beautiful poems to each other, and possibly make out.

17) What would you write on your own tombstone?

A thousand years may be beyond me,
but I can turn this morning into forever.

_____