In the history of Chinese migration to Southeast Asia in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, Chinese temples play a pivotal role in serving the spiritual and social needs of the immigrant community. Wak Hai Cheng Bio, the oldest Teochew temple in Singapore, is a rare surviving example of traditional Teochew architecture in Southeast Asia. Yeo Kang Shua’s Divine Custody: A History of Singapore’s Oldest Teochew Temple addresses the history of Wak Hai Cheng Bio, being one of Singapore’s earliest Chinese temples, as a centre with rich religious and cultural meaning as well as site of influence on the immigrant community.
Category Archive: Non-Fiction
Back in the early 1990s, when I was trying to pitch the idea of including Vladivostok-listed stocks in Asian emerging markets funds, I was told by one Hong Kong fund manager that “Asia stops at the Amur River.” Three decades or so on, that aphorism might still serve to summarize the findings contained in Franck Billé and Caroline Humphrey’s On the Edge: Life along the Russia-China Border.
Katsushika Hokusai is undoubtedly one of the most widely celebrated artists in the history of Japanese visual culture. A Renaissance man active in the late 18th and early 19th centuries during the Edo period (1603-1868), his vivid prints and illustrations remain unparalleled in their dynamic portrayals of flora and fauna, historic events, mythologies, and contemporary urban life in the metropolitan demimonde known as the ukiyo. Even if someone reading is unfamiliar with his impact on the canon of art history, they will likely know his more famous compositions from their omnipresence in pop culture and museum gift shops, such as the “Great Wave off Kanagawa”.
America’s humiliating withdrawal from Afghanistan in the summer of 2021 and the return of the Taliban to power occurred after Sandy Gall wrote this fascinating book about the military exploits of Ahmad Shah Massoud, a mujahideen commander who fought against the Soviets in the 1980s and against the Taliban and its allies until his assassination two days before Al Qaeda’s attacks on 11 September 2001.
There are, in a very general sense, two kinds of travel memoir. In the first, writers take you on a journey somewhere they know very well. They share with you their deep understanding of the place—its people, its history and its geography. The authors’ physical journey is for the most part a literary scaffold upon which they hang their knowledge and expertise. In the second kind of travel memoir, the author is a direct proxy for the reader: as clueless and naïve as you—though perhaps a little braver—embarking together on the journey from the same starting point. You see new experiences and sights through the author’s eyes, and slowly develop the ability to interpret and understand these new surroundings.
The story could be from Disney: in 1653, 14-year-old Venetian Nicolò Manucci, suffering from youthful wanderlust, stows away on a ship. Befriended (and hired) by an English nobleman (Henry Bard, Viscount of Bellomont) en route to Persia to solicit assistance from the Shah for exiled Charles II, he travels through the Ottoman Empire to Esfahan. After a year, once it becomes apparent that no such assistance would be forthcoming, the pair depart for Surat with the intention of continuing on to Delhi, during the last leg of which Lord Bellomont inconveniently expires. Manucci, now 18, but still a teenager, is left alone in the Mughal Empire.
The historian Rui Ramos, who teaches at Lisbon’s New University, said, “All history is revisionist. History is an academic domain where one must emphasize originality, offering unique and diverse interpretations.” This challenge underpins Marc David Baer’s new work, The Ottomans, which joins a long list of recently-published works on this subject.