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BURMESE LITERATURE

According to Countries and Their Cultures: “The focus of writing within Burmese society was, and to
a large extent still is, focused on writing for theater performances (pwe) and producing texts relating
to Buddhism. In addition, since the nineteenth century there is a fair amount of popular fiction. There
is also some British fiction from the colonial period that is set in Burma. Among the early British
works of fiction concerned with the Burmese are two novels by H. Fielding: The Soul of a People
(1898) and Thibaw's Queen (1899). By far the best known British novel set in Burma is George
Orwell's Burmese Days (1934), a critical examination of British colonial rule..[Source: Countries and
Their Cultures everyculture.com ]
Dagon Taya, Burma's leading poet, wrote: "In search of white among the white/ In search of black
among the black./ It is very difficult to find the real things/ trying to get the truth out of false things/
years have gone/ too long to count." [Source: Joel Swerdlow, National Geographic, July 1995]
The literature of Burma (or Myanmar) spans over a millennium. Burmese literature was historically
influenced by Indian and Thai cultures, as seen in many works, such as the Ramayana. The
Burmese language, unlike other Southeast Asian languages (e.g. Thai, Khmer), adopted words
primarily from Pa-li rather than from Sanskrit. In addition, Burmese literature has the tendency to
reflect local folklore and culture. Burmese literature has historically been a very important aspect of
Burmese life steeped in the Pali Canon of Buddhism. Traditionally, Burmese children were educated
by monks in monasteries in towns and villages. During British colonial rule, instruction was
formalised and unified, and often bilingual, in both English and Burmese known as Anglo-
Vernacular. Furthermore, Burmese literature played a key role in disseminating nationalism among
the Burmese during the colonial era, with writers such as Thakin Kodaw Hmaing, an outspoken critic
of British colonialism in Burma.
The bestselling Burmese novel Thway (“Blood”) by Garnye Gyaw Mamalay was written in 1990. Set
in the 1960s, it focuses on a Japanese woman who searches for her father’s second family who she
didn’t know existed until he tells her on his deathbed. The Japanese film director Koji Chino made a
Japanese-Myanmar film of the novel that was filmed in Myanmar.
Somerset Maugham’s Gentlemen of the Parlor is an account of the author's trip through what was
then Burma and Siam, ending in Haiphong, Vietnam. Whether by river to Mandalay, on horse
through the mountains and forests of the Shan States to Bangkok, or onwards by sea, Maugham's
vivid descriptions bring a lost world to life. Maugham's success as a writer enabled him to indulge his
adventurous love of travel, and he recorded the sights and sounds of his wide-ranging journeys with
an urbane, wry style all his own.
Steven Martin wrote in Time magazine, “Local impressions of the past were quite different from
what was portrayed in the books about Burma that I had brought along to read, such as Paul
Theroux's Great Railway Bazaar and A.T.Q. Stewart's The Pagoda War. The tendency to
romanticize this period in history seems almost universal among English-language writers. Rare is
the book about Burma that doesn't gush the obligatory line or two of Kipling — “Come you back you
British soldier, come you back to Mandalay!” I saw children reading comic books depicting Burmese
warriors and their struggle to keep the Royal Palace in Mandalay from falling into the hands of British
troops. [Source: Steven Martin, Time magazine, 2002]
How The Coconut Came To Myanmar: A
Burmese Folk Tale
Recalling a famous Burmese folk tale, Madhu
Gurung wrote in the Pitara kids network: Myanmar is
known as the golden land of gold dome pagodas
and swaying coconut trees. Coconut trees were
originally called 'gon-bin' in Myanmar language,
which translated in English means the mischief-
maker's tree. Why it is known by this most unusual
name, is because once centuries ago, a raft carrying
three people landed on the Burmese coast. The
people on board this raft were taken to the king. On
questioning them the king learnt that they had been
banished from their own kingdom because of the
crimes they had committed. [Source:Madhu Gurung,
Pitara kids network **]
“One man was a thief who stole from other people;
the next was a witch who used to cast wicked spells
and frightened the people. While the third was a
mischief-maker, who did nothing right and only
harmed everyone by telling tales and lies. The king
on hearing their story ordered his minister to give a
thousand pieces of silver to the thief and allowed
him to settle in Burma. For the witch too, he gave
the same orders. But for the mischief-maker, he
ordered him to be executed at once. **
“To his astonished courtiers the king explained that
the thief stole from others because he was poor and
if he had enough to live on, he would make a good
subject. The witch too cast spells because she was
envious, poor and unhappy and if she had enough to
live on, she too would make a good subject. But for
the third, the king pointed out that "once a mischief-
maker, always a mischief-maker". So the mischief-
maker was taken to the seashore and beheaded.
The next day when the king's officer passed the
place of the mischief maker's execution, he was
surprised to see the head of the mischief-maker
open its mouth and shout out aloud, "Tell your king
to come and bow before me or else I will knock his
head off." **
The frightened officer ran to the king to report the
most unusual happening. The king did not believe
him and felt he was making fun of him. "My Lord if
you do not believe me, send someone with me and
he will confirm what I just saw." So the king ordered
another officer to accompany the first. When they
reached the execution grounds the head lay silent.
The second officer reported what he saw and in
anger the King ordered the first officer to be
executed for being a liar. The unfortunate officer was
taken to the execution grounds and beheaded. On
seeing this, the head of the mischief-maker laughed
aloud saying, "Ha, ha! I can still make mischief even
though I am dead." **
The officer went rushing back to the palace and
reported to the king. The king was filled with grief
and remorse. The king realised that the mischief-
maker's head would create further problems, so he
ordered the head to be buried in a deep pit. The next
day a strange tree grew where the head was buried,
bearing the most unusual fruit, which resembled the
mischief-maker's head. This was the coconut tree
which the Burmese call the 'gon-bin' tree. Over the
years, it became "on-bin". If you take the "gon-thi" (a
coconut fruit) and shake it, you can hear a gurgling
sound - for it's still the mischief-maker wanting to
tittle tattle and play a prank on you. **
The Four Puppets: Another Burmese Folk Tale
Aaron Shepard wrote in Australia’s School
Magazine: “Once there was a puppet maker who
had a son named Aung. The father always hoped
his son would grow up to be a puppet maker like
himself. But to Aung, such a life was far from
exciting. “Father,” said Aung one day, “I’ve decided
to leave home and seek my fortune.” The puppet
maker looked up sadly from his work. “I wish you
would stay, my son. The life of a puppet maker is an
honorable one. But if you must go, let me give you
companions for your journey.” [Source: Aaron
Shepard, Australia’s School Magazine, May 2007
>>]
“He showed his son four wooden puppets he had
carved, painted, and costumed. “Each puppet,” he
said, “has its own virtue and value.” The first puppet
was the king of the gods. The puppet maker said,
“The god’s virtue is wisdom.” The second puppet
was a green-faced ogre. “The ogre’s virtue is
strength.” The third was a mystic sorcerer. “The
sorcerer’s virtue is knowledge.” The fourth was a
holy hermit. “The hermit’s virtue is goodness.” He
told his son, “Each of these virtues can help you on
your way. But remember, strength and knowledge
must always serve wisdom and goodness.” >>
“Aung started off the next day. On his shoulder he
carried a bamboo pole, with food and clothing tied at
one end, and the puppets hanging by their strings
from the other. When night came, Aung found
himself deep in the jungle. He stopped beneath a
banyan tree. “This looks like a good place to sleep,”
he said to himself. “But I wonder if it’s safe.” Then
Aung had a funny idea. “I think I’ll ask one of the
puppets!” He turned with a smile to the king of the
gods. “Tell me, is it safe here?” To his amazement,
the puppet came alive. It got down from the pole and
grew to life size. “Aung,” said the god, “open your
eyes and look around you. That is the first step to
wisdom. If you fail to see what is right before you,
how easy it will be for others to misguide you!” And
the next moment, the puppet was hanging again
from the pole. When Aung had gotten over his
shock, he looked carefully all around the tree. There
in the soft earth were the tracks of a tiger! That night
he slept not on the ground but in the branches
above. And he was glad he did, for in the middle of
the night, he saw a tiger come prowling below him.
>>
“The next day took Aung into the mountains, and at
sunset he left the road and camped a little way up
the mountainside. When he awoke the next morning,
he saw a caravan coming along the road below. A
dozen bullock carts were piled high with costly
goods. “That caravan must belong to some rich
merchant,” Aung told himself. “I wish I had wealth
like that.” Then he had a thought. He turned to the
green-faced ogre. “Tell me, how can I gain such
riches?” Aung watched in wonder as the puppet left
the pole and grew to life size. “If you have strength,”
boomed the ogre, “you can take whatever you like.
Watch this!” He stamped his foot and the earth
shook. “Wait!” said Aung. But it was too late. Just
below them, dirt and rocks broke loose in a
landslide. It rushed down the mountain and blocked
the road. The terrified drivers jumped from their carts
and ran off. “You see?” said the ogre. “Is it really that
easy?” said Aung, in a daze. He hurried down to the
carts and rushed from one to another, gaping at the
heaps of rich fabrics and piles of precious metals.
“And all of it’s mine!” he cried. >>
“Just then, Aung heard a sob. Lying huddled in one
of the carts was a lovely young woman his own age.
She cried and shivered in fear. “I won’t hurt you,”
said Aung gently. “Who are you?” “My name is
Mala,” she said in a small voice. “My father is the
owner of this caravan. We were on our way to meet
him.” All at once, Aung knew he was in love. He
wanted to keep Mala with him forever. “Don’t worry,”
he said. “I’ll take you with me and care for you.” Mala
sat up angrily. “Go ahead! Take me, like you’re
taking everything else! But you’re just a thief, and I’ll
never, ever speak to you!” Aung was shocked. Was
he really just a thief? He didn’t know what to say.
The ogre came up beside him then. “Don’t listen to
her. She’ll change her mind—and anyway, the
important thing is you got what you wanted. Now,
let’s go.” The ogre cleared the road, then helped
Aung lead the caravan. >>
“That afternoon, they came out of the mountains,
not far from the capital city. Aung asked the ogre,
“What should I do, now that I have all these riches?”
“Don’t ask me!” said the ogre. “Ask the sorcerer!”
Aung turned to the mystic sorcerer. “Can you tell
me?” The puppet came to life and floated before
him, as Mala looked on with wide eyes. “If you want
your wealth to grow,” said the sorcerer, “you must
learn the secrets of nature.” He tapped Aung with his
red wand, and together they rose high in the air.
Looking down, Aung saw everything in a new way.
He could tell what land was best for farming, and
which mountains held gold and silver. “This is
wonderful!” said Aung. “Just think how I can help
people with what I know!” “Certainly you could,” said
the sorcerer. “But knowledge is power. Why not
keep it all for yourself instead? Isn’t that what other
people do?” “I suppose so,” said Aung. >>
“So they came to the capital city. Aung became a
merchant, and with the help of the ogre and the
sorcerer, he grew many times richer than at first. He
bought a palace for himself and Mala, and kept the
puppets in a special room of their own. But Aung
was not happy, for Mala still would not speak to him.
One day, he placed before her a headdress fit for a
queen. The heavy gold was set with dozens of large
rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. The magnificent
piece had cost Aung a third of his wealth. Mala took
one look and pushed it away. Aung was
heartbroken. He said, “Don’t you know I love you?”
But she only glared at him and said not a word. The
next morning, Aung went to the puppets’ room and
spoke to the ogre and the sorcerer. “Mala’s father
must now be very poor, while I have more than I
need. I’ll help Mala find him so I can pay him for
what I took. Maybe then she’ll speak to me, and
even learn to love me.” “A terrible idea!” said the
ogre. “You should never give up what is yours.
You’re just being weak!” “Besides,” the sorcerer told
him, “you’re too late. Mala ran away last night.”
“What?” cried Aung. He rushed through the palace,
but Mala was nowhere to be found. >>
“Aung returned to the puppets’ room in despair.
“What good is all my wealth if I’ve lost what I care for
most?” For once, the ogre and the sorcerer were
silent and still. Then Aung remembered there was
one puppet he had never called on. He turned to the
holy hermit. “Tell me, why has everything gone
wrong?” The puppet came to life. “Aung, you
imagined that wealth brings happiness. But true
happiness comes only from goodness. What is
important is not what you have but what you do with
it.” The king of the gods then came to life and stood
beside the hermit. “You forgot what your father told
you, Aung. Strength and knowledge are useful, but
they must always serve wisdom and goodness.” “I
won’t forget again,” said Aung. From that day on,
Aung used his wealth and his talents to do good. He
built a splendid holy pagoda, and offered food and
shelter to those who visited the shrine. >>
“One day among the visitors, Aung saw a young
woman he knew well. An older man stood beside
her, both of them wearing humble clothes. “Mala!”
cried Aung. He rushed over to the startled young
woman and knelt before her puzzled father. “Sir, I
have done you great wrong. I beg your forgiveness.
All I have is yours, and I give it up gladly. I will be
content to return to my village and make puppets.”
“Father,” said Mala softly, “this is Aung. But he has
changed!” “So it would seem!” said her father. “And
if so, it would be a shame to let go of a young man
of such talent. Perhaps he would like to work for me,
and live with us in the palace.” So Aung became the
merchant’s assistant, and before long his partner,
and when Mala’s heart was won, his son-in-law. As
for the puppets, Aung still called on them as needed.
But though he was helped often by strength and
knowledge, he was guided always by wisdom and
goodness. >>
Religious Manuscripts and Books
Dr. Richard M. Cooler wrote in “The Art and Culture of Burma”: “Ancient Buddhist books were
written in the Buddhist language, Pali, (or possibly Sanskrit) on specially prepared fronds that had
been picked from the talipot palm. This produced nearly illegible engraved lines that were then made
distinct by rubbing each engraved leaf with soot and oil. The leaves were then arranged on a short
wooden rod or peg that passed through a small hole in each page. The bundle of pages was then
placed between two wooden covers, often bound with a cord, and inserted in a cloth envelope. The
long, rectangular shape of the palm leaves determined the shape of a Buddhist book whose
proportions are inverse to those of western books: Buddhist books are much broader than tall,
whereas western books are usually more tall than broad. The format of a manuscript made of palm
leaves was retained when the Kamawasa was created by the Burmese from cloth, lacquer, and gold
leaf. [Source: “The Art and Culture of Burma,” Dr. Richard M. Cooler, Professor Emeritus Art History
of Southeast Asia, Former Director, Center for Burma Studies =]
“The Shan peoples in northeast Burma created religious books from a paper made from the
cambium of the mulberry shrub. Although made of paper that is concertina folded, the form of these
books conforms to that of a stout palm leaf manuscript. Each accordion folded page is read in
succession on one side of the single sheet and then the book is inverted in order to read the
succession of folds on the opposite side. All types of books when not being used were kept in
wooden chests to prevent damage from insects, mold, humidity, and light and consequently were
among the most valued objects within a monastery. =

Classical Burmese Literature


The earliest forms of Burmese literature were on stone engravings called kyauksa (Burmese: for
memorials or for special occasions such as the building of a temple or a monastery. Later, palm
leaves called peisa were used as paper, which resulted in the rounded forms of the Burmese
alphabet. During the Pagan Dynasty, King Anawrahta adopted Theravada Buddhism as the state
religion, and brought many Pali texts from Ceylon. These texts were translated, but Pali remained
the literary medium of the Burmese kingdom. Furthermore, Pali influenced Burmese language in
structure, because of literal translations of Pali text called nissaya.
The earliest works of Burmese literature date from the Pagan dynasty. They include proses
recording monarchical merit acts and poetic works, the earliest of which was Yakhaing minthami
eigyin (Cradle Song of the Princess of Arakan), dated to 1455. During the Pagan and Innwa
dynasties, two primary types of literature flourished, mawgun and eigyin, and pyo , religious works
generally derived from the Jataka tales. Non-fiction and religious works prevailed during this period
although kagyin , a war poem by a monarch, was an early form of this genre in history.
As literature grew more liberal and secular, poetry became the most popular form of literature in
Burma. The flexibility of the Burmese language, because of its monosyllabic and tonal nature, and its
lack of many consonantal finals allowed poetry to utilise various rhyming schemes. By the 15th
century, four primary genres of poetry had emerged, namely pyo (poems based on the Jataka Tales,
linka metaphysical and religious poems), mawgoun (historical verses written as a hybrid of epic and
ode), and eigyin (lullabies of the royal family). Courtiers also perfected the myittaza , a long prose
letter.
Buddhist monks were also influential in developing Burmese literature. Shin Aggathammadi
rendered in verse the Jataka stories. During this time, Shin Maha Thilawuntha (1453–1520) wrote a
chronicle on the history of Buddhism. A contemporary of his, Shin Ottama Gyaw, was famous for his
epic verses called tawla that revelled in the natural beauty of the seasons, forests and travel. Yawei
Shin Htwe, a maid of honour, wrote another form of poetry called aingyin on the 55 styles of
hairdressing.
After the conquest of Siam by the Toungoo Dynasty, Thailand became a Burmese colony. This
conquest incorporated many Thai elements into Burmese literature. Most evident were the yadu or
yatu , an emotional and philosophic verse and the yagan , which imitated the themes of the yadu
genre, which was more emotionally involved, could be inspired by mood, place, incident, and often
addressed to sweethearts and wives. Famous writers of yadu include Nawadei I (1545–1600) and
Prince Natshinnaung (1578–1619). Some parts of Laos and Cambodia also became Burmese
colonies during Second Burmese Empire and thereby influenced Burmese literature. In the areas of
law, there were two major types of literature, dhammathat , which appeared prior to the 13th century,
and shauk-htone , which were compilations of brief accounts of historic cases and events in simple
narrative to serve as guides and legal precedents for rulers.
As the Konbaung Dynasty emerged in the 18th century, the Third Burmese Empire was founded.
This era has been dubbed the "Golden Age of Literature". After a second conquest of Ayutthaya
(Thailand), many spoils of war were brought to the Burmese court. The Ramayana was introduced
and was adapted in Burmese. In addition, the Ramayana inspired romantic poems, which became
popular literary sojourns among the royal class. Burmese literature during this period was therefore
modelled after the Ramayana, and dramatic plays were patronised by the Burmese court. Moreover,
the Burmese adapted Thai verses and created four new classical verses, called: taydat , laygyo ,
dwaygyo and bawle . Furthermore, the arrival of the first printing press in Burma in 1816, sent by the
Serampore Mission, helped to liberalise centuries-old traditions of writing in verse (lay-lone tha-paik ,
a poetry type, where four syllable lines are linked in a climbing rhyme and grouped into stanzas of 30
lines.). +
Monks remained powerful in Burmese literature, compiling histories of Burma. Kyigan Shingyi
(1757–1807) wrote the Jataka Tales incorporating Burmese elements, including the myittaza (Pali
metta or love + Burmese sa or letter), which are love letters and are important sources of first-hand
accounts of the economic and social changes Burma was undergoing before colonialism. During the
First Anglo-Burmese War (1823–1826), more solemn and muted moods exuded from Burmese
literature, including lyrical music. In addition, yazawin, historical chronicles, became important in the
Konbaung dynasty, although they had been written since the Innwa dynasty. In 1724, U Kala wrote
the Maha yazawin gyi (The Great Chronicles), covering Burmese history until 1711. In 1829, King
Bagyidaw appointed scholars to compile the Hmannan yazawin dawgyi (Glass Palace Chronicle),
covering Burmese history until 1821. A successor king, King Mindon Min appointed a committee of
Burmese scholars from 1867 to 1869 to create the Dutiya maha yazawin dawgyi (The Second Great
Royal Chronicles). +

Colonial Literature in Burma


When Burma became a colony of British India, Burmese literature continued to flourish, even
though the institution of the Burmese monarchy, the leading patron of Burmese arts and literature in
pre-colonial times, had been dismantled. English literature was still relatively inaccessible although
both English and Burmese, in a curriculum called Anglo-Vernacular, was now taught in schools.
Despite the fact that Burmese literature was well entrenched in Burmese culture, the lack of patrons
to support literature slowed its further development. The colonial period marked a tremendous
change in Burmese literature, which had once been patronised and innovated by members of the
royal court, and was now being led by civilians such as university students. +
In 1910, J S Furnivall established the Burma Research Society, which further emboldened the
Burmese to protect their literary and cultural heritage. Beginning in the 1920s, a nationalist
movement emerged, and this influence became evident in modern novels, short stories, and poems.
At the University of Rangoon, student writers continued to develop new forms of Burmese poetry. +
A major landmark in Burmese literature was called the Hkit san (Testing the Times, movement, a
search for a new style and content, led most notably by Theippan Maung Wa along with Nwe Soe,
Zawgyi, Min Thu Wun and Mya Kaytu, while still at university and after, in the decade before the
Second World War. During the Hkit san movement, University of Rangoon students innovated new
styles of writing, with shorter and clearer sentences, and unadorned prose, a radical transformation
from royal writings of the pre-colonial eras beforehand. The movement for independence continued
to fuel Burmese literature. +
Thakin Kodaw Hmaing was greatly influential in spawning this anti-colonial literature with his
powerful laygyo gyi and htika verses famous for their patriotic and satirical content. Hmawbi Hsaya
Thein was particularly influential, with Bazat yazawin (Oral Chronicles), which relied on oral tradition.
Novels also came into vogue, with the first being James Hla Kyaw's Maung Yin Maung Ma Me Ma,
written in 1904 and inspired by the Count of Monte Cristo. Kala paw wut-htu , 'modern novels')
became popular during this era, with P Moe Nin writing the first Burmese novels to focus on the
individual and place that character at the center of the plot. Theippan Maung Wa] and Thein Pe
Myint were among other original and innovative authors from the colonial period. Women writers,
such as Dagon Khin Khin Lay, who wrote about the hardships of peasant life under colonialism, also
gained prominence during the nationalist period leading up to independence. The British author
George Orwell, who was severely critical of British colonialism, wrote Burmese Days published in
1935. +
In addition, literary culture in Burma expanded to the masses during this period, with the arrival of
printing presses and publishers, such as the Hanthawaddy Press, a major publisher of Burmese and
Buddhist works established by Phillip Ripley. In the 1920s to the 1930s, monthly literary magazines
like Dagon and Ganda Lawka (World of Classics) were published to connect readers to writers, who
often published novels in serial installations. +

Post- Colonial Literature in Burma


After independence in 1948, Burmese literature developed further to adopt and assimilate Western
styles of writing. A year earlier, the Burmese Translation Society, a government-subsidised
organization, was founded to translate foreign works, especially those related to the fields of science
and technology. In 1963, a year after the socialist coup, the Society was merged into the Sapay
Beikman , a government publishing house. Another influential publisher was the Pagan Press (est.
1962), which translated Socialist and Marxist works into Burmese. In 1976, the first Burmese
Encyclopedia was published.
The socialist government, like the previous civilian government, was a patron of Burmese literature,
believing "enriching literature" to be a goal of socialist democracies, as outlined in the Revolutionary
Council's System of Correlation of Man and his Environment. However, censorship and promotion of
socialist ideology became important aims of the government, in regulating literature, as seen in the
reorganisation of the Ministry of Information, which censored works according to three primary
objectives that aimed to promote socialism: 1) To introduce necessary bills, acts and orders
concerning literature and information agencies. 2) To promote participation of the people in the
construction of the socialist state. 3) To defend the socialist system from its ideological enemies.
[Source: Discussion of the National Literary Conference. Rangoon: Ministry of Information, 1963]
In 1971, the government formed the Burmese literary Commission, to develop Burmese literature
further. On 5 July 1975, the Printers and Publishers' Central Registration Board, the main censorship
board of the Home Ministry (four years earlier, the Board had been a part of the Information
Ministry), issued a statement to warn publishers to self-censor works (especially those criticising the
Burma Socialist Programme Party, the government, pornographic writing and libel), undermining the
principle of freedom of expression. Many contemporary works are of history and biographical
accounts. Because of strict government censorship beginning in the 1960s with the rule of Ne Win,
Burmese literature has become subdued in many ways. + By 1976, only 411 titles were published
annually, compared to 1882, when 445 titles were published. Various factors, especially the
lengthened bureaucratic process to obtain printing permits, censorship, and increasing economic
hardship of consumers because of the socialist economic schemes, contributed to the decline of
Burmese literary output. +
Popular novels are have similar themes, often involving adventure, espionage, detective work, and
romance. Many writers also translate Western novels, especially those of Arthur Hailey and Harold
Robbins. The flourishing translation sector is the result of the Burmese government, which did not
sign the Universal Copyright Convention Agreement, which would have forced Burmese writers to
pay royalties to the original writers. +
Short stories, often published in magazines, also enjoy tremendous popularity. They often deal with
everyday life and have political messages (such as subtle criticisms of the capitalist system), partly
because unlike novels, short stories are not censored by the Press Scrutiny Board. Poetry is also a
popular genre today, as it was during the monarchical times, but unlike novels and other works,
which use literary Burmese, may use the vernacular, instead of literary Burmese. This reform
movement is led by left-leaning writers who believe laymen's language (the vernacular and colloquial
form of Burmese) ought to be used instead of formal Burmese in literature. +

Modern Writers in Burma-Myanmar


One of the greatest female writers of the Post-colonial period is Journal Kyaw Ma Ma Lay. Khin Myo
Chit was another important writer, who wrote, among her works, The 13-Carat Diamond (1955),
which was translated into many languages. The journalist Ludu U Hla was the author of numerous
volumes of ethnic minority folklore, novels about inmates in U Nu-era jails, and biographies of people
working in different occupations. The Prime Minister U Nu himself wrote several politically oriented
plays and novels.
Other prolific writers of the post-colonial era include Thein Pe Myint (and his The Ocean Traveller
and the Pearl Queen, considered a Burmese classic), Mya Than Tint (known for his translations of
Western classics like War and Peace), Thawda Swe and Myat Htun. Distinguished women writers,
who have also been an ever-present force in Burmese literary history, include Kyi Aye, Khin Hnin
Yu, and San San Nweh. +
Other writers who came of age prior to 1947 during the colonial era included Hmawbi Saya Thein
(1862–1942), James Hla Kyaw (1866-1919), U Ottama (1879–1939), Thakin Kodaw Hmaing (1876–
1964), P Moe Nin (1883-1940), Pe Maung Tin (1888–1973), Po Kya (1891–1942), Theippan Maung
Wa (1899–1942), Dagon Khin Khin Lay (1904–1981), Saya Zawgyi (1907-1990), Htin Aung (1909–
1978), Min Thu Wun (1909-2004), Thukha (1910–2005), Chit Maung (1913–1945), Thein Pe Myint
(1914–1978) who wrote the classic The Ocean Traveller and the Pearl Queen, Richard Bartholomew
(1926–1985) and Taw Phayar Galay (1926–2006). +
Younger authors who became well known in Burma include Aung Thin (born c. 1927), Mya Than
Tint (1929–1998) who was known for his translations of Western classics like War and Peace,
Tekkatho Phone Naing (1930–2002), Maung Hsu Shin (c. 1932-2009), Tin Moe (1933–2007), Nanda
Thein Zan (1947-2011), and Pascal Khoo Thwe (born 1967). Other well-known authors include
Thawda Swe, Chit Oo Nyo, Maung Khin Min (Danuphyu), and Saw Wai. Well-known Burmese
historians include San C. Po (1870–1946), Htin Aung (1909–1978), Sao Saimong (1913–1987), Ba
Shin (1914-1971), Than Tun (1923–2005), Myoma Myint Kywe (born 1960) and Thant Myint-U (born
1966). +
Distinguished women writers, who have also been an ever-present force in Burmese literary history,
include Kyi Aye, Ludu Daw Amar (1915–2008), Khin Hnin Yu (1925–2003), Aung San Suu Kyi (born
1945), Minfong Ho (born 1951), Nu Nu Yi (born 1957), San San Nweh Jue, Khin Khin Htoo (born
1965) and Mi Chan Wai. One of the greatest female writers of the post-colonial period is Journal
Kyaw Ma Ma Lay (1917-1982). +

Pascal Khoo Thwe and “From the Land of Green Ghosts”


Pascal Khoo Thwe is celebrated Burmese author of “From the Land of Green Ghosts,” an evocative
memoir that exposed foreign readers to the brutality of life under military dictatorship. A member of
the minority Kayan-Padaung ethnic group, Thwe was born in in 1967 in Pekon, Shan State. He is the
eldest of six sons and five daughters. His father died in 1996 in Thailand. Pascal Khoo Thwe is
known for his autobiographic writings about growing up in Burma under military rule. “From the Land
of Green Ghosts: A Burmese Odyssey” was awarded the Kiriyama Prize Life
By a chance encounter with Dr. John Casey, a Cambridge don, Khoo Thwe was rescued from the
jungles of Burma where he and other student refugees were fighting Burmese soldiers for
independence. In 1991 Khoo Thwe enrolled in Gonville and Caius College, Cambridge where he
received his BA in English literature in 1995. "From the Land of Green Ghosts" was published by
Harper-Collins in 2002. He currently resides in London.
Describing the tactics used by Myanmar military against Karen insurgents, Pascal Khoo Thwe wrote
in “From the Land of Green Ghosts,” "People who were obviously civilians began emerging from the
jungle into the clearing in which the [Karen] headquarters stood. They came out in pairs, chained
together and clearly in a state of abject terror. They were civilian porters, kidnapped like the others
we had seen and forced to carry munitions and walk ahead of the troops through minefields ... The
first pair stumbled on to a landmine. There was a huge explosion, the dull boom of which echoed
through the jungle ... severed body parts - hands, eyes, legs - of the sacrificial victims flew instantly
into the air mingled with a cloud of dust. But the chain that bound them was unbroken, so their trunks
collapsed on to the ground with a hollow thud, while arms, feet and fingers were scattered among
the bushes." [Source: From the Land of Green by Pascal Khoo Thwe]
Nicholas Lezard wrote in The Guardian, “Thirty pages later the man who saw and wrote this is
reading English literature at Caius College, Cambridge. It is quite a journey, particularly when you
consider that the author comes from a hill tribe so marginalised and remote that even he considers
himself something of a hick, and felt terrified and lost when he first went to Mandalay to study
English. We should not make too much of the extraordinary leap to Cambridge when reading this,
but it's always at the back of the mind - not least because Khoo Thwe wrote this in perfectly
idiomatic, flawless English. (In the paragraph I have quoted, "abject terror" and "hollow thud" are not
clichés. As for the observation about the unbroken chain, that would be first-rate symbolism were it
not horrifying reality.) [Source: Nicholas Lezard, The Guardian, April 12, 2003 ////]
“But Khoo Thwe has much to say, lovingly and understandingly, about his childhood among the
Padaung, a tribe hitherto only familiar to us for the fashion among the women for wearing those
brass rings that elongate the neck. It is an upbringing among the influences of missionary
Catholicism and animism (there is an amusing moment later on, when Khoo Thwe is warned that
English Catholicism might strike him as somewhat lax in comparison with what he is used to), of
ghosts and malign spirits, rites to be observed, dead souls to be propitiated. It is a place where his
grandfather asserts that a good reason for believing the world is flat is because the ruling junta
declares it is round. After all, they have been proved wrong about so much else. The country exists
in a state of disastrous poverty and imposed ignorance; when you read that they only found out that
men had landed on the moon in 1977, you might be forgiven for thinking that it is remarkable that
they found out at all. ////
Gradually, but ineluctably, the political situation becomes insupportable; there are simply too many
murders, too many personal tragedies, and Khoo Thwe flees for his life towards the Karen State
near the Thai border. Timothy Mo wrote as vividly about jungle guerrilla warfare in The Redundancy
of Courage; the difference here is that Khoo Thwe lived it. What no novelist could have done is have
Khoo Thwe rescued and taken to Cambridge. That all came about because, while working as a
waiter in a Chinese restaurant in Mandalay, he met Dr John Casey, who had been told to look out for
the waiter who liked Joyce. Casey was only in town because he wanted to see the subject of
Kipling's poem. Later on, Casey sent Khoo Thwe a copy of the New Oxford Book of English Verse
with a large-denomination banknote inserted at "Mandalay".
Book: From the Land of Green Ghosts by Pascal Khoo Thwe (Flamingo, £7.99)

Everything Is Broken and Other Books About Modern Myanmar


Wendy Law-Yone wrote in the Washington Post: In "Everything is Broken," Emma Larkin (a
pseudonym) returns to some of the territory of her first book, "Finding George Orwell in Burma." The
catastrophe that draws Larkin back in 2008 is Cyclone Nargis, which struck the delta region with
apocalyptic force, leaving more than 100,000 people dead and wreckage on an incalculable scale.
Compounding the disaster was the stubborn refusal of the military government to allow international
aid to reach the victims. [Source: Wendy Law-Yone, Washington Post, June 2010.Wendy Law-Yone
is a Burmese-American writer living in London. Her novel "The Road to Wanting" has just been
published in the U.K.==]
"Everything is Broken" is Larkin's eyewitness account of the cyclone's chaotic aftermath, both in
Rangoon and throughout the devastated delta. Larkin's writing is graceful, and the final third of the
book describing her work with the survivors is all the more powerful for her unobtrusive style. But
due perhaps in part to her low-key interviews and subdued investigations and in part to the
anonymity of her sources (a necessity under repressive regimes), other sections have an offstage
quality that make for less compelling reading. ==
“Another author returning to Burma for a second book is Karen Connolly, whose first was "The
Lizard's Cage," an award-winning novel set in a Burmese prison. This time, Connolly's nonfiction
subject is love. Although this is principally a memoir of her affair with the leader of a Burmese
dissident group, the subtitle of "Burmese Lessons: A True Love Story" clearly refers as well to this
Canadian writer's fondness for the country and its people. Connolly is a poet with many volumes to
her credit and a narrative flair to her prose. But those who pick up "Burmese Lessons" more out of a
special interest in Burma than out of curiosity about how a Western woman copes with seduction,
passion, rejection and constipation while carrying on an affair with a Burmese revolutionary may feel
shortchanged. About Maung, the revolutionary, we learn very little, apart from a few breathless
details about his healthy libido. What exactly Maung does in the daily service of revolution, however,
remains unclear. One is left with the impression that he does very little -- rather poor PR for the
dissident movement. ==
“Much of the action in "Burmese Lessons" takes place in the Thai border town of Mae Sot, home to
an ever-shifting population of Burmese refugees, illegal migrant workers, dissidents and the NGOs
and Thai Police overseeing them. Mae Sot is also the setting for Mac McClelland's "For Us
Surrender is Out of the Question," an account of her six-week stint as a volunteer in a houseful of
Karen refugees. (The Karen are one of Burma's embattled ethnic minorities living in the delta and
eastern hills bordering Thailand.) Subtitled "A Story from Burma's Never-Ending War," the book is
shot through with so many accounts of mind-numbing ordeals and atrocities that after awhile the
repetition seems never-ending, too. But here at least, between the horror stories, we learn what
young Burmese dissidents do when they're not out in the field: They sleep in late, get hooked on
Facebook, talk to their girlfriends on their cell phones, do squats while watching Eminem, drink a lot
of beer -- the usual frat-house routine. ==
“McClelland, a young editor at Mother Jones, writes like a seasoned 20-something blogger. A
footnote explaining why the Burmese junta changed the country's name to Myanmar concludes,
"The junta sucks." She resists the temptation to put her name on her food in the shared refrigerator
of the group house because that would be "way too douchey." Still, she has done her homework
where Burma is concerned -- and anyone who doubts it can be roundly reassured by a separate
chapter on her sourcing. ==
“As McClelland's reporting shows, stories of Karen villagers in ceaseless flight from rabid Burmese
soldiers dominate the literature of human-rights violations in Burma. But it takes a book like Zoya
Phan's "Undaunted" to bring home the gut-wrenching particularities of such stories -- of what it
means to experience terror, hunger, dispossession and debasement as a way of life. The daughter
of a senior Karen leader who was recently assassinated, Zoya had an idyllic childhood -- until her
tranquil, verdant Burmese village went up in smoke when she was 14. For the next 10 years, she
and her family, along with thousands of others, were constantly on the run -- from the savagery of
the Burmese army to the cruelty of the jungle, and on to the inhumanity of refugee camps. ==
“Zoya's simple but affecting coming-of-age tale, told with the help of British journalist Damien Lewis,
is one of both survival and triumph. Today Zoya, a University of East Anglia graduate based in
London, is a prominent campaigner and eloquent speaker whose counsel on Burma-related issues
has been sought by British members of parliament and former prime minister Gordon Brown.
Whatever their strengths and weaknesses, the above books are at least evidence that news about
Burma is no longer as scarce as it once was -- just implacably, resolutely disheartening. ==
Books: Everything Is Broken: a Tale of Catastrophe in Burma by Emma Larkin (Penguin. 2010);
Burmese Lessons: a True Love Story by Karen Connelly (Nan A. Talese/Doubleday, 2010); For Us
Surrender Is Out of the Question: a Story from Burma's Never-Wnding War Mac Mcclelland (Soft
Skull, 2010); Undaunted: My Struggle for Freedom and Survival in Burma by Zoya Phan with
Damien Lewis (Free Press, 2010).

Literary Censorship in Myanmar and How Things Have Changed


Pre-publication censorship was a hallmark of life under the generals. It was applied to everything
from newspapers to song lyrics and even fairy tales. The Printers and Publishers Registration Law
of1962 requires publishers to submit copies of books and magazines to the Press Scrutiny Boards
prior to publication. Violating the nation's strict publishing law was a crime punishable by up to seven
years in prison. Under the 1962 act, both individuals and organisations can sue publications for
defamation, in a country where for decades the judiciary was seen as a close ally of the junta. The
board still exists. The burden is on the owners and editors to take more responsibility towards their
works which results in self-censorship.“
Erika Kinetz of Associated Press wrote: “For decades Burma’s books, like its people, were
subjected to varying degrees of physical violence. First, there was the censor’s red pen, which
slashed across manuscript pages. Writers, bearing gifts of food, clothing and books pleaded with
censors not to cut too deep. Authors also had to submit copies of their printed work before
distribution. Pages that didn’t conform to the government’s edit were torn out, undesirable phrases
blacked over. It was an age of allegory. There were forbidden words: Poverty. Suicide. Kiss. Fiction
began to fill in for news. People turned to literary magazines, stuffed with topical short stories,
because newspapers and television broadcast only government propaganda. Writers passed
banned manuscripts among friends. [Source: Erika Kinetz, Associated Press February 5, 2013 <<]
“The poet Saw Wai who was imprisoned for his work “said he never let the censors into his head,
writing exactly what he wanted to, even if it meant his work could not be distributed. That’s changing.
A new book of his poems, including some that were previously censored, came out...No publisher
has yet been brave enough to publish the poem that landed him in prison in 2008. That doesn’t
mean you can’t read it. A poster of the poem, which includes an encrypted insult against Burma’s
former leader, hangs on the wall of his wife’s restaurant in Rangoon. It’s also on his Facebook page.
<<
“Burma’s censorship board, which shut in August 2012,, was officially rebranded the Copyrights and
Registration Division at the end of January 2013, just in time for Rangoon’s first international literary
festival, where Saw Wai staged his poetry performance. The festival brought together around 80
Burma authors — including exiles and former political prisoners like opposition leader Aung San Suu
Kyi — and international writers, like Jung Chang, whose best-selling “Wild Swans” recently became
available in Burmese, though it is still banned in China. <<
“The years of censorship have given author Tin Tin Win, who writes under the name Ju, an
enduring sense of the power of writing. Ideas were, after all, dangerous enough that the government
tried to control them. “Literature can change our heart,” she said. “The reader cannot forget what
they read in their heart.” As for whether the new freedoms might dilute that power? “Maybe I will
know about that later,” she said. <<
“It was 22 years before Ju got permission to publish the first book she wrote. Published in 2011 —
minus a few key chapters cut by censors — “Ahmat Taya” (“Remembrance”) is a love story about
two unmarried medical students living together. The censors, Ju said, had rejected the plot as
“poisonous” to the dignity of Burma’s women. Today, Ju is Facebook friends with the man who was
Burma’s last chief censor. Sometimes they chat online. The swift change has forced her to ask
fundamental questions about how and what she writes. After 19 novels, it’s difficult to get the censor
out of her head. Most things she writes twice, once in the old way, and then again, fumbling with the
new. Instead of straining against boundaries that have been forced on her, now she must now
delimit her own speech, deciding, for example, how far to push religious taboos. “With censorship
gone, it’s difficult to write,” she said. “It’s a big responsibility for me.” <<

Freedom Brings New Challenges for Burma’s Writers


Reporting from Yangon, Erika Kinetz of Associated Press wrote: “Poet Saw Wai parked himself on
the lawn, unfurled a map of Burma with a blob of blood-red paint dripping down from a spot up north
and invited people to make poetry with him. “He’s calling for more trouble,” said a passerby. What
the message lacked in subtlety it made up for in brazenness. Government forces have been
pounding ethnic rebels in Burma’s northern Kachin state, displacing tens of thousands and testing
the country’s fast-growing friendship with the West. It’s the sort of thing you couldn’t really talk about
here for 50 years. [Source: Erika Kinetz, Associated Press February 5, 2013 <<]
“Nearly two years into reformist President Thein Sein’s term, the rush of hope and idealism that
greeted many new freedoms — most strikingly freedom of speech — is turning into a measured
assessment of the nation’s progress. Long accustomed to writing around censorship, Burma’s
writers are relearning the habits of free thought and testing the boundaries of speech. But change
has also brought questions about how licensing requirements and market capitalism will shape
public debate and how speech should be regulated in a multiethnic and multireligious nation of
Buddhists, Muslims and Christians. <<
“Newly unmuzzled, many writers are eager simply to say what they see. Saw Wai, who served 28
months as a political prisoner, grinned as he handed out photocopies of his latest poems. “I’m not
afraid,” he said. “I’m just a guinea pig, testing freedom of expression on behalf of the people.” While
Saw Wai calls his work “realism poetry,” author Ma Thida describes her novels as “documentary
fiction.” In 2011, her book “The Roadmap,” which opens with the 1988 uprising when the military
brutally crushed popular protests, was published abroad. Though it was written in English and came
out in Thailand, she was afraid to publish under her own name, choosing Suragamika (“Brave
Traveler”) instead. She knew something had changed when her prison memoir was published in
Burma a year later. “I didn’t expect to get this book published in Burmese,” she said. <<
“While the new liberties have been good for Ma Thida’s writing, the rush of competition has been
terrible for the circulation of the four publications she helps oversee. The arrival of nongovernment
news journals has also pulled people from her literary magazine, she said. Today, some of the laws
used to incarcerate Ma Thida, who was sentenced to 20 years for passing an opposition political
journal to a friend, remain on the books. <<
“ Under the 1962 Printers and Publishers Registration Law, publications must be licensed by the
state. Critics say the awarding and renewing of licenses is not transparent and could be used to
silence dissent. “Cronies can get licenses easily. We cannot,” Ma Thida said, referring to business
people with connections to the former military rulers. “It is a kind of a censorship.” <<
“Burma’s constitution enshrines freedom of expression if it doesn’t harm “community peace” or
“public order and morality.” While that could be used to block the kind of hate speech that fueled
ethnic violence in western Burma last year, such sweeping measures can also be used for political
prosecutions. Burma is working on a new press law, which could address issues such as defamation
and the right to access information. <<
“We’re in a phase where maybe the dream era is coming to an end, and it’s a hard struggle,” said
Oxford historian Timothy Garton Ash, who has studied freedom of expression in former totalitarian
states. “Once you have free speech, you have to work out how to use it.”

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