#Teow Lim Goh

[abellinthecupboard]

Expectant

September 1880 Rock Springs, Wyoming All day she dusts and still she finds black streaks when she sets down the laundry. Her feet swell and her back hurts. Six months along: the baby kicks again. A stew is bubbling on the stove. Potatoes, herbs, a little bit of meat. She drops a plate and looks at the clock. He should be home by now: an accident at the mine or one more rowdy round with the old boys at the bar? The shards glint in the fading light. She watches coal crackle on the stove and dreams of this child she will soon hold, an angel with Daddy’s green eyes and her chestnut hair—must be a girl, she knows, she knows, he will come home for her. She waits to hear his ragged cough outside.

— Teow Lim Goh, featured in Diode Poetry Volume 16 #1 (source)

[catapultbooks]

To take up citizenship in another country is to naturalize: to be made natural, normal. In this framework, to immigrate is to move away from our origins, break with our lineage, and become unnatural and alien, which is aberrant to many who subscribe to the idea of a patrilineal homeland.

Catapult | Catapult | On Borders and Citizens | Teow Lim Goh

[conundrumpress]

Teow Lim Goh's Book About Poetry Left By Chinese Immigrants Garners National Attention

Teow Lim Goh’s Book About Poetry Left By Chinese Immigrants Garners National Attention

“Although it was widely known as the Ellis Island of the West, Angel Island wasn’t meant to herald immigrants to the United States so much as to keep them out. Located just across from Alcatraz in the San Francisco Bay, the immigration station started operating in 1910, largely to process the cases of Chinese laborers, who, three decades before, had become the first group of people to be…

[poetryvoice]

Aaron Abeyta is the featured poet, interviewed by Kierstin at Bridger Global. Uche and  Kierstin talk recently deceased Colorado poet Jack Mueller, whose tiny love lyric is the Open Bard poem. Yeats meets Black Sheep on the Not Yet Freestyle, and going deep on Marie Howe. Subscribe on iTunes (+ comment and rate, 5/5 for the pentameter, of course)!

News & Oohs: Demimonde wins a Willa Award for Kierstin. Uche goes Swiss with a poem, “Lausanne à Genève” in Global Geneva magazine ( p 15).

Mentioned or hinted: Teow Lim Goh’s Islanders. David Mason’s Ludlow. Patricia Smith’s Incendiary Art.

Credits:

Opening & closing music: (FUNK IS) THE D.N.A. OF HIPHOP, by curious, © 2006. Creative Commons Attribution Noncommercial license.

Intermission music: circus man by Jeris, © copyright 2012. Creative Commons Attribution license.

Not-Yet Freestyle poem: “The Song of the Happy Shepherd” by William Butler Yeats. Backing track: “The Choice is Yours”—Black Sheep.

Ridgway Alley poem: Love by Jack Mueller.

Deep Voice poem: “The Gate” by Marie Howe

Hosts: Kierstin Bridger and Uche Ogbuji.

Production: Uche Ogbuji.

[semperintrepida]

Now I see that beginnings, with their sense of possibility, are intoxicating. We live in a culture that eschews the long haul in favor of the glitter of the new. It is easier to keep starting again, always dabbling, than to commit to a path that leads to places you cannot yet see.

Teow Lim Goh, “Tenacity, the Key to the Writing Life”

[dead-philospophers-society]

“I cannot seem to document my own life— I rarely take photographs or keep momentos, write things down— memory is perfidious. Yet things come back to me in flashes. Sometimes i write them into fictions.”

— Teow Lim Goh

[albwalt]

A SHORT HISTORY OF PENANG’S MALAY PUBLISHING INDUSTRY

By Caleb Goh . November, 2016

Original Source: http://penangmonthly.com/article.aspx?pageid=1310&name=a_short_history_of_penangs_malay_publishing_industry#.We2uLS0P_zU.email

WINDOW INTO HISTORY 

The Jelutong Press.

The Malay printed word in Penang had its beginnings in the late nineteenth century, peaking just before the Second World War.In a dusty shop on the second floor of Chowrasta Market, yellowing cardboard- bound books lie tied up with cord. Many of these are printed in Tamil and Jawi, and some in romanised Malay. These are the remains of Penang’s early Malay publishing industry which once dominated northern Malaya. These are books written, printed, bound and sold in Penang – a self-sustaining trade that extended to journals and newspapers, once almost comparable to the products of London’s Paternoster Row.Printing in Penang began in 1806, when the London Missionary Press established a Mission that employed wooden blocks of typeset Jawi held in place by a wine screw press. This was the first press to be established in the peninsula.Since the press was operated by the Mission, the ethos of Malay publishing could perhaps not be said to have begun. However, it was the beginning for the printed Malay word in Penang. Reverend Thomas Beighton was the most prolific printer of the period. In 1832 he printed his first work in Malay, a grammar book titled Ibarat Perkataan. This was the first Malay book printed in Penang, albeit by an Englishman1. With Beighton’s death in 1844, the presses fell silent and very little work was produced on the island until the advent of the lithographic press in the last decade of the nineteenth century. 

The Lithographic Era

The Malay word for printing is cap, which literally means to print a die over a surface such as batik textile. This lithography was the preferred method of printing among the Muslims for over 50 years. In the Malay Peninsula, lithography started in Singapore with Munshi Abdullah Kadir. Having learnt the techniques of lithography from Reverend Benjamin Keasberry, Munshi Abdullah used it to print many books including his autobiography, Hikayat Abdullah. Many early lithographed Malay books throughout the Nusantara credited him as the “teacher” of printing in the colophon2. But what of Penang?Malay lithography in Penang was centred in Acheen Street. It began as a cottage industry in small shophouses, producing only a few pages daily due to the slow, laborious process used. In many cases such as Ahmad b. Ibrahim’s Muhammadiah Press, the actual printing was done by Chinese-owned lithographic presses, like the Kim Seck Hean Press of 78, Penang Road3. Its Chinese proprietor, Khor Teow Han, produced many Malay works of literature such as Haji Sulaiman’s Khasasol Anbia (1897), a little book of Arabian history; Datuk Saudagar Putih’s Hikayat Sultan Bustamama (1900), a translation of a popular Hindi work; and even a Jawi-Malay newspaper.These books were lithographed and often heavily decorated and ornate – as well as expensive. Many of them were texts on Islam but there was also a good number of historical Malay epics. Penang was bestowed with a role mirroring that of Aceh for the Dutch East Indies, commonly called the “Doorstep to Mecca”. Muslims from across Malaya gathered around the Acheen Street mosque to prepare for the steamer to Jeddah to perform the Haj, and shops there sold items required for the trip such as tasbih beads, robes and religious books. The Malay book trade in Penang thus became commercially viable in this vibrant context.A noted printer then was Haji Putih b. Syaikh Abu Basyir, a Jawi-Peranakan bookseller. He translated, published and sold popular fiction as well as historical epics in Malay. His books were printed at the Muhammadiah Press at first, then at the aforesaid Kim Seck Hean Press, and finally at his very own Freeman Press. The lithographic age saw a few strange trends in Penang: for one, these Malay “publishers” did not always do the printing. They would commission a lithographic press to do the printing before distributing the finished work to a network of agents across the peninsula – at least until the emergence of the cap timah.

Hikayat Faridah Hanom.

The Letterpress Era

The cap timah, or letterpress typography, came to replace the lithographic press. In Singapore, the Jawi Peranakan newspaper owned the only modern European-style movable typeset press to be found on the peninsula for nearly 20 years4. In Penang, the Penang & Straits Press Co. of 42, Beach Street produced the Miftah al-Bayan, a collection that gave fasting advice during Ramadan, by Syaikh Abdullah b. Muhammad Salih Patani, as early as 1890 in typeset Jawi. This hailed the beginning of the typeset age in Penang.Interestingly, the Penang and & Straits Press Co. had yet to produce any notable books apart from Fatwas and Akidats. It was not until 1911 that the Salasilah Kedah by Wan Yahya b. Wan Muhammad Taib was produced. Prior to that, in 1900 Lim Seng Hooi’s Criterion Press also introduced the Bintang Timor, later renamed Cahaya Pulau Pinang in typeset Jawi.Malay lithography died a quiet death with no works after this date – not even by the venerable Kim Seck Hean Press which wheezed out a lithographed Jawi newspaper called the Pemimpin Warita sporadically from 1895 to circa 18995 before losing out to its competitors. The Cahaya continued the age-old tradition of using a Chinese printer with ownership and management being held by Malays, who in this case was Abdul Ghani b. Mohd. Kassim.Typesetting in Penang spoiled the Malay reader with a choice between Jawi or romanised Malay publications. Up till that point, romanised Malay publications were only popular among Baba Chinese, who were not taught much Jawi. Baba Malay literature marked a very small niche in the early twentieth century with more than half of all works coming from one man: Chan Kim Boon.Born on Muntri Street, Chan’s Baba-Malay translation of the Chinese classic The Romance of the Three Kingdoms became a publishing sensation. This work, titled Chrita dahulu-kala, namanya Sam Kok, atau, Tiga negri ber-prang: Siok, Gwi, sama Gor di jaman Han Teow came out in serials between 1892 to 1896. Printed by Singapore’s Kim Seck Chye Press, it sold wherever a substantial Baba population could be found. In Penang, the booksellers Thean Chee & Co. (Chop Loon Hong) of Beach Street became mobbed with customers. Chan soon emerged as a prolific author of Baba Malay, from 1889 to 1913. The Modern Malay Novel and Radical Literature By the mid-1920s, letterpress publishing was rife in Penang. The Persama Press, founded by Haji Sulaiman Rawa in Acheen Street, became one of the most industrious of all Malay presses. By 1930, it alone produced almost 13.2% of all books while its greatest rival, Dabab bin haji Muhammad Salleh’s United Press at Dato Keramat, produced 7.3% of the grand total. Together, they formed a partnership that would dominate the mainstream Malay publishing industry6, focusing on religious treatises such as the highly venerated and popular yellow book, Kitab Kuning; educational Malay texts; and Tafsirs printed cheaply on yellow pulp paper to appeal to the Muslim on the street.

Al-Ikhwan magazine. Al-Imam magazine. (see below)

Outside the Persama-United Empire, fringe presses flourished. One such was Syed Sheikh Syed Ahmad Al-Hadi’s Jelutong Press. Al-Hadi was born in Malacca in 1867 to Yemeni-Arab parents. He studied in the royal court of the Sultan of Riau under the eminent Malay historian Raja Ali Haji, and later travelled across the Middle East with the Riau Princes, under a plethora of rationalist Islamic scholars in Cairo, Mecca and Beirut.In Cairo, he was mentored by the modernist cleric, Syeikh Mohammad Abduh at Al- Azhar University, and became influenced by Abduh’s progressive and anti-superstitious interpretation of scripture. He brought the reformist spirit of theology home to Malaya and tried to set up a reformist madrasah and magazine in Singapore in 1906 but was met with resentment and failure. He attempted the same in Malacca in 1915, but was also pressured to leave.The Ottoman Empire's participation in the Great War on the side of the Central Powers against Great Britain and its allies was alarming for the British since many Muslims in their colonies considered the Ottoman Caliph the ruler of the Islamic ummah. As such, Muslim intellectual activity with hints of rebellion or reformation was faced with immediate clampdown even after the War was over. Thus, Al-Hadi had no choice but to make his way to Penang where press control was less rigid.He founded the Madrasah Al-Masyhur in 1919, and set about writing a book that would electrify a generation of Malays. In 1925, he published Hikayat Setia Asyik kepada Masyuknya atau Syafik Afandi dengan Faridah Hanom. It was the first Malay novel the Nusantara had ever seen. His idea was to channel into Malay society a version of the “Modern Girl” based on the teachings of the Prophet. The “Modern Girl” was a hot topic in the 1920s: in the West, Amelia Earhart flew aeroplanes and Marlene Dietrich smoked cigarettes; in the East Junichiro Tanazaki wrote Naomi about a westernised young girl who controlled her husband using her sexuality.Al-Hadi wanted to create the model of a modern, liberated Muslimah who was educated, strong, devout and independent. Faridah Hanom tells the story of a young Egyptian woman who is forced into an arranged marriage with a rich alcoholic by her conservative parents. Being strong and independent, she seeks out a love of her own in a young army officer and impresses him with her intellect. Here, Al-Hadi uses their dialogue to carry his message of Islamic reforms to the reader and argues that forced marriages are not acceptable in Islam and to deny women education is a sin.The book was a success and the Al- Aminiyyah Press, which printed the book, could not keep up with the demand. The proceeds were so tremendous that it enabled Al-Hadi to set up his own printing press in Jelutong. The popularity of Jelutong Press soon overtook that of the Persama-United and it would later become the biggest Malay publishing house in Malaya.It soon entered mainstream publishing and printed many Islamic texts and periodicals besides fiction. One of these periodicals was Saudara, which Al-Hadi’s son Syed Alwi Al-Hadi managed.Interestingly, one of Saudara’s editors, Abdul Rahim Kajai, emerged into prominence by perfecting the modern form of the Malay short story, or “cerpen”. His stories were left-leaning and poked fun at the upper classes. After Al-Hadi’s death, Kajai went so far as to satirise the merchant class mixed- blood Malays such as his master, who were perceived at the time as rich capitalists who only pursued the worldly, or duniawi. This made him a subject of controversy; some called him a racist, others a nationalist. After cutting his teeth on Saudara, he left Penang and became the first editor of the Utusan Melayu newspaper in 1939 before co-founding a monthly magazine called Mastika, in 1941.Al-Hadi died at home in Jelutong Road in 1934. The Jelutong Press continued his work after his death, until 1944. The premises of his cherished press were sold off and many of its equipment ended up in the Sinaran Brothers Press on Chulia Street. In a way, Al-Hadi’s legacy remains alive today in George Town.Al-Ikhwan magazine.Al-Imam magazine.Outside the Persama-United Empire, fringe presses flourished7. One such was Syed Sheikh Syed Ahmad Al-Hadi’s Jelutong Press. Al-Hadi was born in Malacca in 1867 to Yemeni-Arab parents. He studied in the royal court of the Sultan of Riau under the eminent Malay historian Raja Ali Haji, and later travelled across the Middle East with the Riau Princes, under a plethora of rationalist Islamic scholars in Cairo, Mecca and Beirut.In Cairo, he was mentored by the modernist cleric, Syeikh Mohammad Abduh at Al- Azhar University, and became influenced by Abduh’s progressive and anti-superstitious interpretation of scripture. He brought the reformist spirit of theology home to Malaya and tried to set up a reformist madrasah and magazine in Singapore in 1906 but was met with resentment and failure8. He attempted the same in Malacca in 1915, but was also pressured to leave.The Ottoman Empire's participation in the Great War on the side of the Central Powers against Great Britain and its allies was alarming for the British since many Muslims in their colonies considered the Ottoman Caliph the ruler of the Islamic ummah. As such, Muslim intellectual activity with hints of rebellion or reformation was faced with immediate clampdown even after the War was over. Thus, Al-Hadi had no choice but to make his way to Penang where press control was less rigid9.He founded the Madrasah Al-Masyhur in 1919, and set about writing a book that would electrify a generation of Malays. In 1925, he published Hikayat Setia Asyik kepada Masyuknya atau Syafik Afandi dengan Faridah Hanom. It was the first Malay novel the Nusantara had ever seen. His idea was to channel into Malay society a version of the “Modern Girl” based on the teachings of the Prophet. The “Modern Girl” was a hot topic in the 1920s: in the West, Amelia Earhart flew aeroplanes and Marlene Dietrich smoked cigarettes; in the East Junichiro Tanazaki wrote Naomi about a westernised young girl who controlled her husband using her sexuality. Al-Hadi wanted to create the model of a modern, liberated Muslimah who was educated, strong, devout and independent. Faridah Hanom tells the story of a young Egyptian woman who is forced into an arranged marriage with a rich alcoholic by her conservative parents. Being strong and independent, she seeks out a love of her own in a young army officer and impresses him with her intellect. Here, Al-Hadi uses their dialogue to carry his message of Islamic reforms to the reader and argues that forced marriages are not acceptable in Islam and to deny women education is a sin.10The book was a success and the Al- Aminiyyah Press, which printed the book, could not keep up with the demand. The proceeds were so tremendous that it enabled Al-Hadi to set up his own printing press in Jelutong. The popularity of Jelutong Press soon overtook that of the Persama-United and it would later become the biggest Malay publishing house in Malaya.11It soon entered mainstream publishing and printed many Islamic texts and periodicals besides fiction. One of these periodicals was Saudara, which Al-Hadi’s son Syed Alwi Al-Hadi managed.Interestingly, one of Saudara’s editors, Abdul Rahim Kajai, emerged into prominence by perfecting the modern form of the Malay short story, or “cerpen”. His stories were left-leaning and poked fun at the upper classes. After Al-Hadi’s death, Kajai went so far as to satirise the merchant class mixed- blood Malays such as his master, who were perceived at the time as rich capitalists who only pursued the worldly, or duniawi. This made him a subject of controversy; some called him a racist, others a nationalist. After cutting his teeth on Saudara, he left Penang and became the first editor of the Utusan Melayu newspaper in 1939 before co-founding a monthly magazine called Mastika, in 1941.12Al-Hadi died at home in Jelutong Road in 1934. The Jelutong Press continued his work after his death, until 1944. The premises of his cherished press were sold off and many of its equipment ended up in the Sinaran Brothers Press on Chulia Street. In a way, Al-Hadi’s legacy remains alive today in George Town. The Publishing Industry Today The Malay book trade has changed. It is claimed that the book trade has moved to KL. Even Singapore’s paper-and-ink road, Cecil Street, has seen an exodus of presses to KL after the island republic’s disenchantment with the Malay language following independence. In Penang, the acrid smell of fresh ink and greased machinery no longer emanates from the low brick houses along Acheen Street. In Jelutong, Al-Hadi’s revolutionary press is now the Hurp Seng Hong Paint Shop. In 78, Penang Road, Kim Seck Hean is now The Penang Rubber Stamp & Printing Press. In a modern shop lot on Church Street, Phoenix Press hums away all day though. Phoenix Press also prints for Areca Books, a publishing company founded in 2005 promoting scholarly works on the multicultural fabric of Penang, Malaysia and South-East Asia. Books are printed and published in English, Malay and Chinese. In essence, the Malay publishing industry in Penang is not completely dead but has merely taken another form. References 1 O'Sullivan, L. 1984, “The London Missionary Society: a written record of missionaries and printing presses in the Straits Settlement 1815-1847”, in Journal of the Malaysian Branch, Royal Asiatic Society, vol. 57, p.90 2 Van der Putten, Jan. “Printing in Riau: Two Steps Toward Modernity.” Bijdragen Tot De Taal-, Land- En Volkenkunde 153.4 (1997): 717-36. Web. P.21 3 Early Malay printed books: A provisional account of materials published in the Singapore-Malaysia area up to 1920 noting holdings in major public collections, I. Proudfoot, Academy of Malay Studies and the Library, University of Malaya, Kuala Lumpur 1993, p.48 4 A Nineteenth Century Malay Bookseller’s Catalogue, Ian Proudfoot, Kekal Abadi 6(4) 1987, p.5 5 Masyarakat Melayu Pulau Pinang Dalam Arus Sejarah(Penerbit USM), Muhammad Haji Salleh, Mahani Musa, Publisher: USM 2016 6 Mahani Musa, ‘Muslim mercantile activities in George Town before the Second World War’ [2016] (issue 0216) The Penang Monthly. 7 These presses were not satisfied with merely putting out Islamic texts, schoolbooks and historical epics. 8 Manasseh Manoharan, ‘Penang, Home of the Malay Novel’ [1992] 3(2), Pulau Pinang, p. 9 9 Chinese Leadership and Power in Colonial Singapore, C.F. Yong, Times Academic Press, Singapore, 1992, p.308 10 Lost Times and Untold Tales from the Malay World, Edit. Jan Van Der Putten, NUS Press, 2009, p.26611 Roff, Origins of Malay Nationalism, p.8312 Zainudin Maidin, Di Depan Api di Belakang Duri: Kisah Sejarah Utusan Melayu, Utusan Publications & Distributors Sdn Bhd, 2013, p. 33

Caleb Goh Hern-Ee studied Law at the Multimedia University in Malacca. He recently completed a two month internship at Penang Institute. He hopes to travel around the world some day with his clarinet and an unlimited supply of Zapple.

[growingdenver]

The President's 'Kitchen Cabinet', How Writings On Detention Center Walls Inspired...

The President's 'Kitchen Cabinet', How Writings On Detention Center Walls Inspired…

Your perception of George Washington may change when you hear about how he treated the first presidential cook. The story comes out of Denver author Adrian Miller’s new book, “The President’s Kitchen Cabinet: The Story of African-Americans Who Have Fed Our First Families.” Then, writing on the walls of an immigrant detention center inspired Denver poet Teow Lim Goh. The poems in the men’s…

[coloradopoetjhwriter]

Eleanor Goodman in Conversation with Teow Lim Goh

Eleanor Goodman in Conversation with Teow Lim Goh

Eleanor Goodman Teow Lim Goh

Here is an excellent interview with poet and translator Eleanor Goodman by the fine young poet Teow Lim Goh. I blogged about Ms. Goodman back in September, when she came to the University of Denver to speak and read from her Chinese translations under the auspices of the Professional Creative Writing Program, and when she read (the following evening) at BookBar.

The…

[catapultbooks]

“Seven years ago, I visited Angel Island for the first time. I rode a ferry across the bay, climbed a steep flight of stairs, and walked along a service road to the immigration station. The sky was clear and I could see for miles around the bay. I remember thinking that unlike those who were held here, I had the freedom to walk where I wished. I also remember thinking that here, the sea is both a border and a vista of possibility. Borders don’t always keep people out, but they can keep those of us inside from looking beyond.” 

A new essay by Teow Lim Goh on borders, immigration, and what it means to be a citizen.

(via Catapult | Catapult | On Borders and Citizens | Teow Lim Goh)

[femmesfollesnebraska]

Writer Teow Lim Goh generously shares with LFF about her “leap of faith” into writing; her inspirations from landscapes to authority of voices; her tenacity, feminism and more…

Whereare you from? How did you get into art?

I was a math major at the University of Michigan and moved to Denver after I graduated. In Denver I began writing, at first to figure out who I was and my place in the world. In the last three or four years, I decided to take my writing seriously. I have studied at the Lighthouse Writers Workshop here in Denver, the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown, as well as online at LitReactor.

It was a reckless leap of faith to begin writing. But I needed to do it.

Angel Island

Tell me about your inspirations, process.

I work full time in an office and I write in the interstices of the day. Sometimes I wake up early. Sometimes I stay up late. I always have a notebook with me.

At the beginning, I was most interested in the landscapes of the American West. The mountains, deserts, and prairies were larger than anything I had seen, and I wanted to understand what it means to live in such a place. I get inspiration from travel, be it flying out to San Francisco to visit friends or walking in the patch of prairie next to where I live.

I am also interested in what it means to speak, to have authority, whether on a particular subject or our own lives. Whose voices do we listen to? Whose perspectives do we believe? What are the consequences of silence?

I also get ideas from reading. Authors whose work I consider influences include Rebecca Solnit, Joan Didion, Natasha Trethewey, Jake Adam York, David Mason, Lidia Yuknavitch, Leslie Marmon Silko, Kate Zambreno, and Anne Carson.

Tell me about your current project and why it is important to you.

I am circulating a manuscript of poems on the Angel Island Immigration Station in the San Francisco Bay. This was where, from 1910 to 1940, Chinese immigrants were detained under the Chinese Exclusion Act. Some of them wrote poems on the walls (above). There are no records of poems the women wrote, because the women’s barracks burned down in a fire. In the manuscript, I imagine what the women might have said.

I want to reclaim marginalized and otherwise unheard voices. In writing about Angel Island, I get to indulge in my obsessions: history, landscape, immigration, witness, the abject female experience. And I get to dream about the sea.

Now I’m researching a second book on the 1885 massacre of Chinese miners in Rock Springs, Wyoming. I think of it as a book-length poem. I have been visiting the archives in Cheyenne, Laramie, and Green River, as well as spending time in Rock Springs. It is still too early to tell where this is going.

Do you think your city is a good place for women in art? Do you show your work elsewhere/is there a difference in how your work is received?

It is hard for me to say. I have mostly published in journals and magazines with a national reach. But this much I can say about Denver: it is affordable compared to, say, New York or San Francisco, and we have a lively arts scene. Also, we do not quite have an establishment to measure ourselves against, which means that there is more room for experimentation, for voices outside of the mainstream. I am not sure if I would have become a writer and write the way I do had I moved somewhere else at 22.

Artist Wanda Ewing, who curated and titled the original LFF exhibit, said of her work: “I’ve been making provocative art with a political edge in my Midwestern hometown since 1999. And to do that, you have to be tenacious as hell.” Are you tenacious in your work or life? How so?

I had to overcome my upbringing and believe that I have something worth saying. When I decided to take my work seriously, I became anxious, sleepless, and distracted. I crashed my car. I often felt I was hanging on by my fingernails. I still do not know what got me through that time. Tenacity, perhaps. Or a mix of ambition and desperation.

I have not yet received much blowback from my work, but I am steeling myself for the derision that would one day come my way. “It did not happen that way.” “This is not as important as you think it is.” I write shadow histories. People get vicious when you upend their comfortable assumptions about their power and privilege. 

Ewing, who examined perspectives of femininity and race in her work, spoke positively of feminism, saying “yes, it is still relevant” to have exhibits and forums for women in art. Does feminism play a role in your work?

In my book on Angel Island, and most likely in the Rock Springs Massacre too, I imagine the voices of women whose stories have been lost. Too often, women’s perspectives are forgotten or silenced. To bring their experiences to light is a feminist project.

Ewing’s advice to aspiring artists was “you’ve got to develop the skill of when to listen and when not to;” and “Leave. Gain perspective.” What advice do you have for aspiring artists?

Find your tribe. Find a group of peers and mentors who believe in you and your work. Art is hard enough; you need support.

Don’t pigeonhole yourself or your work. Take risks and try new things. Explore the unknown.

http://teowlimgoh.com/

~

Les Femmes Folles is a volunteer organization founded in 2011 with the mission to support and promote women in all forms, styles and levels of art from around the world with the online journal, print annuals, exhibitions and events (See CALL FOR ART/WRITING on the submissions page); originally inspired by artist Wanda Ewing and her curated exhibit by the name Les Femmes Folles (Wild Women). LFF was created and is curated by Sally Deskins.  LFF Books is a micro-feminist press that publishes 1-2 books per year by the creators of Les Femmes Folles including Intimates & Fools(Laura Madeline Wiseman, 2014) and The Hunger of the Cheeky Sisters: Ten Tales (Laura Madeline Wiseman/Lauren Rinaldi, 2015). Other titles include Les Femmes Folles: The Women 2011, 2012 and 2013, available on blurb.com, including art, poetry and interview excerpts from women artists. A portion of the proceeds from LFF books and products benefit the University of Nebraska-Omaha’s Wanda Ewing Scholarship Fund.

[conundrumpress]

Women Write The Rockies and Beyond Presents “A Celebration of International Women’s Day”

Women Write The Rockies and Beyond Presents “A Celebration of International Women’s Day”

Women Write the Rockies and Arapahoe Community College’s Writers Studio will celebrate International Women’s Day with a poetry and fiction reading focusing on cultural identity and social awareness on Thursday (March 10) at the college’s main campus in Littleton. The event is being organized by Conundrum author Kathryn Winograd, Ph.D., and will also feature Conundrum author, Teow Lim Goh, whose…

[poetryvoice]

Kierstin and Uche are back after an unannounced summer break with a jam-packed episode including separate interviews of featured guest Teow Lim Goh. Then a tête-à-tête at “Weezy’s” to Not Yet Freestyle Emma Lazarus’s The New Colossus, bring in a poem from former guest Joe Hutchinson and go deep on Incendiary Art, a firestarter of a poem by Patricia Smith. Subscribe on iTunes (+ comment and rate, 5/5 for the pentameter, of course)!

News & Oohs: Don’t miss Kierstin Bridger as interviewed in Canopy Poetry, a new project of this episode’s guest Teow Lim Goh. Uche has four poems with an attitude one might recognize from the Not-Yet-Freestyles in Okey-Panky. and a couple of poems published for the 2017 total eclipse, including Totality with a video he recorded from the site.

The chatter: The mad realities of parenting in summer—The many layers of the Statue of Liberty, The New Colossus—El Cuervo’s Yucatecan tail-Enjoying the unexpected popularity of a book of poems—”What are the intimate consequences of political decisions?”—A root of irony at the wellspring of Stanford University—The beauty of a place of cruel history (labelled “No undue hardship”)—Writing beyond the waxwork of “bad hombre” immigrants—Drawing the narrative out of ideas in Chinese lyric—The predominant Cantonese of the Angel Island detainees and other Chinese dialects—The Rock Springs, Wyoming massacre—The remarkable story of Ah-Yuen AKA China Mary, latterly of Evanston WY—The 2D popular conception of the American West—Using the left brain to make a living and the right brain to inhabit that living—Releasing the received, British-protected poetic tradition from its European prison—The total eclipse as omen—The seven stomachs of summer.

Mentioned or near mentioned: Teow Lim Goh’s Islanders. David Mason’s Ludlow. Patricia Smith’s Incendiary Art.

Credits:

Opening & closing music: (FUNK IS) THE D.N.A. OF HIPHOP, by curious, © 2006. Creative Commons Attribution Noncommercial license.

Intermission music: SUNBIRDS BOCrew, by BOCrew © 2012 Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution (3.0) license.

Not-Yet Freestyle poem: “The New Colossus” by Emma Lazarus. Backing track: “Roun’ the Globe”—Nappy Roots.

Ridgway Alley poem: The Crow/El Cuervo by Joseph Hutchison.

Deep Voice poem: “Incendiary Art” by Patricia Smith

Cover image: Bartholdi and co working on the Statue of Liberty’s left hand—US National Park Service.

Hosts: Kierstin Bridger and Uche Ogbuji.

Production: Uche Ogbuji.

[pankmagazine]

PANK Magazine :: 9.12 / December 2014 :: On the Boat by Teow Lim Goh

A fish tank in his room.

No fish, only seaweed and water.

I imagined guppies circling the glass, nowhere to go.

We knew we would part in San Francisco.

I did not love him, but for the first time in my life

I felt held. These things I am not supposed to know.

Some nights I wonder where he is.

[To read more poems by Teow Lim Goh, visit our website Here]

[guernicamag]

All that morning I followed the news reports out of Japan. The reactors had shut down immediately when the quake occurred, but the tsunami crossed a seawall, flooded the backup generators, and left the plant without power to run the cooling systems. The fuel rods began to overheat. The heat evaporated the water in the cooling pools and exposed the rods. The pressure in the reactors built up. The day after the quake, an explosion tore off the roof and outer walls of Unit 1. Two days later, an explosion in Unit 3 damaged its exterior walls. The Tokyo Electric Power Company, the plant operator, initially tried to reassure the public that Unit 2 was stable, but four days after the quake, it suffered a blast that warranted a temporary evacuation of the plant. In an attempt to keep the fuel rods submerged in water, Japan began pumping seawater into the reactors, the nuclear equivalent of a Hail Mary. Half a world away from the disaster I went about my life as usual. I went to work. I visited the art museum. I rode my bike around the prairie near my home. I made dinner. I did not rush out to buy potassium iodide pills, as many Americans did, but I felt a heightened alertness and a sense of vulnerability. The fabric of everyday life had ruptured, the routines of thought disrupted. I had a sense that a wall had crumbled and I had turned permeable. I was immersed in the present, but I also felt another kind of receptivity: I knew that if I were in the path of the fallout, I would be subject to its dangers. My body would absorb the radioactive iodine and potassium in the air. The poisons would lodge in my bones, my thyroid, and over the decades emit elevated levels of radiation and scramble the codes in my cells.

Teow Lim Goh: Split - Guernica / A Magazine of Art & Politics