Mr. Kuo,

On Truth and Existence

You reminded me of the words of Joseph Brodsky, who describes art as the oxygen that might arrive when the last breath has been expended:

“A great writer is one who elongates the perspective of human sensibility, who shows a man at the end of his wits an opening, a pattern to follow… Art is not a better, but an alternative existence; it is not an attempt to escape reality but the opposite, an attempt to animate it.”

I see this in The Spirits Play (1998). The collective lack of resolution of that war and the relationships that linked the spirits to the war has left them in a limbo state afterlife, condemned to remember and to recreate the truth, the omniscient truth through the unfolding of each character’s flawed memories and recollection of events.

Drawing on its allegorical references to World War II, the work depicted the Japanese as victims without taking a categorical position to condemn them for their conduct in the war and as a result, many Singaporean and regional audience were left disappointed and upset. But doesn’t this distinctively remind us of how we have been conditioned to self-perpetuate aggression towards the ‘oppressors’ – the Japanese as a collective whole? The descendants of the ‘oppressed’ were told that any attempts to protect, defend or even to justify the Japanese’s actions are deemed to be unpatriotic. And yet, the concept of the open society is based on the recognition that nobody is in possession of the ultimate truth. If we fail to recognize that we may be wrong, we can only undermine any action done in the world.

Living in a world that fragments, that re-engineers and one that homogenizes culture, we cannot just wait for someone else (be it an authority or an individual) to define our life and our existence. One can only create meaning by forging it with one’s own hands. This process requires sweat and commitment. Working towards the creation of meaning is the point. It is the action that forges the meaning and significance of life. You taught me these in The Spirits Play – a theatrical piece that is more about a question than an answer.

I find it poignant that I am able to draw parallels between The Spirits Play and Singapore. In a culture where hopes are synonymous with self-centered satisfaction, “could we still go home?” Where is our home? Has capitalism corroded our soul? And is this not a fate worse than the destruction of the body – to lose our soul and to live an empty existence? As the spirits in The Spirits Play continue to descend deeper into darkness and have practically no hope of seeing the dawn of life, are we not the same too?