Sometimes the ability to capture the essence of a community is best done by an outsider. A true objective look can sometimes only be framed by experiences in another part of the world.
Neil Humphreys world was working class England until 1996 when he arrived in the Asian city state of Singapore. With all its greenery and exotic sights and smells, in Singapore Humphreys found a very profound connection, one that would have him still calling it home some eighteen years on.
Humphreys relationship with Singapore is far less the traditional cashed up expatriate and more the functional inhabitant. He sees parallels with his English life in council estates. He sees himself not as a journeyman but as a heartlander, someone who is very much part of the fabric of the country in which he calls home. But though perhaps a heartlander his Englishness still allows him that outsiders objectivity he wouldn’t have otherwise.
In Humphreys time in the small city-state he has produced many books, which have made him the most successful Singaporean author. He has penned 12 books in total, four of which are non-fiction observations of Singapore and its culture and two are fictionalized dramatic accounts of lives in the world of professional football.
Humphreys is a regular contributor to Singapore dailies and magazines. His background and non-compromising attitude has seen him bristle against the entitled and use his penmanship in support moral causes, most recently being the plight of foreign workers in their struggle to have a mandated single day off each week.
I expected to find a lighthearted Humphreys, more in keeping with his public persona but instead found a highly considered and sometimes acerbic writer whom has much to say about his inspiration, likes and dislikes. His detailed answers sometimes seemed quite betrayed by my naive line of questioning.
IBR: Singapore has been a constant for most of your writing, is the author Neil Humphrey’s and Singapore co-dependent?
Neil Humphreys: A writer is obviously conditioned by his environment. When I lived in Australia, my non-fiction book on parenthood, Be My Baby, was obviously Australia-based. My novel Match Fixer was partially based in Australia and the UK and Premier Leech was entirely set in London. And the Magic Suitcase is set everywhere! I do loosely follow 'the write what you know' idea. Wherever I lay my hat, that's my muse. Since primary school, I've always had an interest in observational writing/comedy. Dungeons and dragons never interested me, I was always interested in writing about the lonely, old lady struggling to the post office every Monday to collect her pension, pulling a battered shopping trolley through the biting, wintry conditions on a London housing estate. Even as a kid, those kinds of observations could stay with me for days. I'd imagine a whole life for that woman. I pretty much do the same now. I'm much more interested in the human condition, our behavior quirks and our uncanny ability to do such profound things and yet be so unbelievably selfish and daft at the same time. That interest follows me wherever I go, and Singapore is so ripe for that kind of observation. We are a first-world economy but in some instances retain third-word selfish sensibilities when it comes to compassion and care for others. I'm fascinated by that on-going battle in Singapore's social evolution.
IBR: What was the initial inspiration for the series of books on Singapore?
Neil Humphreys: Pretty much all of the above. Superficially, it was a classic fish out of water story; hawker centres v the East London greasy spoon cafes that I worked in as a kid; Dagenham council estates v HDB estates; Cockney v Singlish and so on. Those tend to be the staples for most expat musings on living overseas. But where I differed, I think now looking back, is actually I didn't change. Not at all. I didn't pick up at the time because there was no self-awareness, no second-guessing or analysis. I just wrote about my life and the colourful contrasts between swapping a housing estate in England for one in Singapore. It's only retrospectively that I realise what an impact those early books, particularly the first one, had in Singapore. I wasn't rich or even remotely well-off. That was the key. I shared one room in a small HDB flat with my wife, two Filipino nurses and a mad landlady because that was all I could afford. I hung out in hawker centres because I preferred the food and I hung out in their working class equivalent in the UK. I didn't go to wanky, tacky pubs in Singapore because I didn't in the UK. I didn't hang out at the cricket club because I can't stand cricket and it just isn't my world. Even now, I'm uncomfortable in such settings. What I struggle with is being labelled as 'that ang moh who got down with the locals in the heartlands' which is so patronising to my people - decent, working class people. It suggests there was some sort of anthropological experiment going on, as if I was taking my First Class degree and sneaking it into a Toa Payoh flat to engage in some sneaky research of the 'heartlanders'. I’ll always be a heartlander. If I die in a $30m bungalow because I've ripped off a poor, innocent millionaire of her fortune, I'll still die a heartlander. It's a state of mind, not a postcode. One of my single biggest regrets was when the first book came out, I was interviewed by a journalist in my Toa Payoh and when the interview ended, she looked around the three-room flat and said: "This is all a bit of an act really, isn't it?" I was so stunned by the comment that I mumbled some embarrassed reply. Today? I would've said 'sod you' and thrown her out of the house, insisted that she quote me verbatim and then written up the entire exchange on Facebook. But that's me, I never learn to play the game properly! So the initial inspiration was to write about the quirks and oddities in my new Singapore life, comparing and contrasting two working-class cultures - Dagenham, England and Toa Payoh, Singapore.
IBR: How did your choice of accommodation when you arrived in Singapore shape your experience. Would we have seen “Notes From An Even Smaller Island” if you had moved into a condominium?
Neil Humphreys: That is such a fascinating question because I no longer live in an HDB flat and I've been criticised for that on occasion (usually by maid-raised, middle-class folks, but hey ho). And it is a fascinating talking point. My answer would be absolutely yes, because my writing career owes more to its style than perhaps its setting. I've been writing columns regularly in Singapore since I returned three years ago, released books too, and I've been very fortunate that they've retained their popularity - despite the fact that I don't live in an HDB flat.
I'm often asked why my humour writing has endured, when others have come and gone, in a country renowned for its political sensitivity and supposedly face-saving culture. My answer has always been the same: empathy. You can't fake it. You can't manufacture it. It either comes through the writing, through the humour, or it doesn't. The warmth is sincere. When I tackle maid abuse, I mean it. When I go to bat for Singapore's elderly, pioneer, generation, I mean it. When I champion the poor kids in a three-room rental flat in Queenstown, I mean it. It's not act or an attempt to score points for compassion. If I don't mean it, I don't write it. Sometimes, it has cost me readers. I know for a fact that my championing of foreign domestic workers has cost me readers in some circles. But honestly, do I want readers who think I'm 'spoiling the market' by demanding that helpers should have a day off a week and be treated and paid well? Not really. In fact, some of these loonies write the most insanely selfish letters in reply, providing humour that I couldn't possibly replicate (and they always give me follow-up material.)
So whether I'm living in a three-room flat or the Istana, the writing is either honest, fair and empathetic or it's not. I was an opinionated little sod who couldn't keep quiet when it came to socio-economic inequality when I was 18 and I still am!
But there is a sinister undertone to that whole HDB/condo thing that really bothers me. Without getting all Marxist about it, one of the problems I still have with the UK is the policing of the classes. I don't really know what else to call it. The idea of don't you go getting ideas above your station. You were born working class and you'll die working class. Know your place and leave it to the elite to carve up the lion's share. The Aussies can be the same. They take pride in their Tall Poppy Syndrome, actively wasting time and energy knocking down anyone who has risen about the working class fray and reached for the stars. In the UK and Australia, the working classes do it to themselves! They make a point of knocking down anyone who's 'gotten carried away'.
And while the working classes squabble among themselves, the elite continue to toast their success. This idea that you were born in a one-room flat and therefore must die in a one-room flat is ridiculous. I was a poor kid who continues to work seven days of the week and continue to tell Singaporean students the same thing - live, work and do whatever you want to do, not what myopic families and the social police tell you to do. Pigeon-holing is such a unhealthy thing and unfortunately in Singapore, we are past masters when it comes to labelling and pigeon holing.
IBR: Your work has often been compared to Bill Bryson and you gave him a nod in the title of your first book, how much of an influence has his work had on you?
Neil Humphreys: Of course, Notes From a Small Island was a terrific book, one of the best ever written about the UK precisely BECAUSE Bryson was a foreigner who had immersed himself into a foreign culture for a long period of time. That offers such a unique perspective that can't be achieved in a six-week stint around a country for a travel guidebook. Funnily enough, I've been asked more than once to write a book about Malaysia, but I've always been reluctant because I risk falling into the very trap that I've always made fun of. The book would be too superficial. Bill Bryson and I did email each other once or twice and I met him briefly in Melbourne and he was gracious enough to say a couple of kind things about my Singapore books. But honestly, I think that says more about the man, than it does about the books. He is such a sweet soul, really. And he cares about the right things, the environment, heritage, how people live and the need for us to basically treat each other better. What's not to like? But honestly, I think that outsider with an insider's perspective is so intriguing. It offers such a unique perspective. I'm still waiting for Singaporean writers to head to the UK and take the piss out of my old country. There's enough material there.
IBR: How did you find a publisher willing to publish your work, given the relatively small size of the market in Singapore?
Neil Humphreys: Whether it was luck, talent or timing, things came together really quickly. I was with the Straits Times at the time and the lovely Sumiko Tan was really supportive, offering tips and giving me some names of publisher. I'll always be grateful to Sumiko for that. I was an unknown writer at the time and she was a famous columnist and had co-authored a book on LKY and was gracious with her time. I'd like to think that I've always helped when budding writers have contacted me. That said, it's worth noting that I had a clear idea for the book, a detailed synopsis and most of the chapters written when I started shopping the book around. In our instant gratification world, I often get emails from people saying I've got this great idea for a book or I want to be a funny columnist, can you put me in touch with all the right people?! Er, well, probably not, what you have to do is actually go away and WRITE up the ideas, then rewrite them, then rewrite them some more, then edit them and then consider making contact. By the time I asked Sumiko for help, I'd spent almost a year on the book. And then I contacted three publishers and, luckily, they all wanted to publish. Two wanted to turn the book into something it almost certainly wasn't, which might have earned me more friends in pretentious circles but cost me 90% in book sales. And the other publisher - Marshall Cavendish - saw its real potential - hopefully as an original, occasionally funny, but insightful look at an evolving, quirky island.
IBR: Is their a lively literary and arts scene in Singapore?
Neil Humphreys: There is an arts scene in Singapore, no doubt, but it depends on how you define lively. What alarms me are the same faces at festivals and arts events, they sometimes feel a bit self-serving and incestuous. This is not unique to Singapore of course, but we are working from a much smaller talent pool to begin with. We need new faces! They are out there, but they are gravitating towards the digital media channels, which I fully understand. If the same cocky, cheeky Neil Humphreys at 21 was coming along now, he might jump on YouTube instead. Why spend months working on a book when it could be distilled down to funny 10 minute videos on YouTube that could be equally mocking of censorship, kiasuism, homophobia and the gambling culture and so on. I've tackled all those issues on my books. Young, gifted writers make the same points in funny five-minute videos and move on to the next topic. That's great. I love the videos. But no one is writing books. Few people are even reading books! That's the bigger problem. That said, to any young, gifted writers out there who read this, I am available for YouTube cameos.
IBR: What was the most surprising fact you came across when researching your first book?
Neil Humphreys: Er, I can't really remember my first book! And I never go back and read my books once they are published. It's too torturous a process. I'm always pleasantly surprised - and honoured - when I meet people who'll say, "I'll never forget when you wrote about the time you elbowed that auntie in the jaw in a Toa Payoh mini-mart". And I'll suddenly remember the long-forgotten incident and chuckle (you'll have to read the book for the context, I'm not a phantom auntie puncher, not since the medication kicked in anyway.) The best example of this happened earlier this year when I returned to the UK for my grandmother's funeral. It was a surreal time in itself when I noticed I was suddenly being tweeted a fair bit on Twitter. I thought, damn, what have I done now? And then one tweeter said something like: "All foreigners in Singapore should be made to read Chapter X of Neil's book." I had no idea what Chapter 'X' was, so I called my mother, who straight away said, 'expats'. Mothers always know these things. The Anton Casey incident happened while I was in the UK for my grandmother's funeral and I only found out about it, thanks to Singaporeans saying some lovely things about me. I must thank Anton Casey for that. He made me look really good that week. In truth, he cast Attila the Hun in a favourable light that week.
IBR: Do you think that you have successfully integrated into Singapore life, are you a local? Is it difficult?
Neil Humphreys: Argh, the inevitable how local are you question. Growing up in an old country, the whole national identity thing is a bit of non-issue until the World Cup comes around (or the xenophobes of UKIP start foaming at the mouth). During the World Cup, the England flags come out for a while, beers are drunk, England get knocked out, everyone remembers that England are crap at football, the flags come down and that's the end of the 'local' issue for another four years. I'm English because it says so in my passport. I don't give it a lot of thought. I've never laid in bed at night and screamed: "I don't know any of the lyrics of God Save the Queen. I am a disloyal subject, send me off to the Falkland Islands". Since then, I've lived in two newish countries - Singapore and Australia. Aussies, bless them, can define themselves by how much they hate the English. Mates can have a beer and happily argue over who hates the English most. I considered changing my name to Pommy Bastard just to make everyone feel better. If you watched the news in Australia, you'd think England was just off the coast of Tasmania and Indonesia was slightly to the west of Jupiter. For a country that really doesn't like the English, they don't seem to stop talking about the English or obsessing over them (the English can be equally at fault here.) But Singapore is different. As far as the Brits are concerned, they're old news, done and dusted. We're a proud Republic and that's that. If the Queen comes to visit, great, she gets a pretty picture in the papers, but she's not as a big a story as a PRC woman screaming at a Singaporean auntie on an MRT train. I like that (the proud Republic spirit bit, not the PRC v local row bit.) So Singapore tends to fixate on its independence and the national identity question so much we get the whips out and go in for a bit of self-flagellation. Every August, the same stories surface. How Singaporean are we? How local are you? Are we Singaporean enough? Are our foreigners local enough or are they still foreign foreigners? Is Humphreys now a local ang moh or an ang moh local? Does he speak Singlish? Does he know all the words to Majulah Singapura? Does he eat rojak? Can he sing Majulah Singapura in a Singlish accent, whist eating rojak and playing sepak takraw? I was once asked by a journalist to speak Singlish down the phone to 'test' my local-ness like a performing bloody monkey. And of course it sounded stilted and artificial when used out of context. And this very English-educated young reporter had the gall to say my Singlish was fake and wrong. I've been writing about Singlish since she was in primary school and I've still got to jump through hoops to prove my 'local-ness.' It's the equivalent of asking a recent migrant to London to do his best Dick van Dyke Cockney accent. Just ludicrous (though it might make for a priceless YouTube clip.) As I always say, my average day is I get up early, I take my daughter to school. Sometimes I have breakfast at the coffee shop. Sometimes at home. I work from home, doing more and more work for less and less money (that's Singaporean, surely). I eat two meals out of every three at the hawker centre because it's cheap and good and I can't cook anything other than beans on toast and maggi noodles. I go to the gym to work off the hawker centre, and shop at Fair Price or Mustafa at weekends. I'm godfather to a beautiful Chinese-Singaporean girl, my best mate is her father and I spend most evening watching a bit of cable TV or working into the night. I don't employ a helper and take public transport everywhere, even though those bloody low buses kill my lanky spine. Does that make me local? But I don't speak much Mandarin, so does that make me foreign? What about the Indians and Malays? I'm a vegetarian, which means I eat few of Singapore's most famous dishes. Does that make me foreign? What about Muslims and Buddhists? I prefer hawker centres because the food is cheap and varied. Does that make me local or tight-fisted? The point is we must strive to stop pigeon-holing people. We don't all fit into neat boxes. We're not easily compartmentalised. We are a messy mess of races, preferences, religions, cultures, cuisines and tastes; the messier, the better. I don't like racial hegemony. It scares me. And I don't believe in ticking boxes of a pre-determined survey labelled 'what makes you Singaporean.' I am local in the way that every other local is local. When I arrive in London or Melbourne, it feels like a visit to a great country. When I arrive at Changi Airport, it feels home. When I eat in coffee shop, it feels home. When I wander around or cycle or jump on a bus, it feels home. When I chat with Singaporean mates, it feels home. That's it. Everything else is window dressing.
IBR: Given your love of football an it being the subject of two of your books and your columns in Singapore’s newspapers, were you surprised that a global match fixing ring was run from Singapore?
Neil Humphreys: No, everyone within the industry knows that Singapore has long been an engine that drives international match-fixing.
IBR: South Asia’s love of football is well known globally however it doesn’t seem to generate players that go on to the European or English leagues. What do you think is missing is the South East Asian football program?
Neil Humphreys: A systemic belief that sport is a viable, financially and spiritually rewarding career. If the powers that be and parents themselves do not truly believe that a Singaporean son or daughter should pursue a career in sports, why should the kid believe it? Until that perception changes, Singapore will never have a sports culture and we'll continue to hand over cash to foreign stars and clubs to draw crowds to the Sports Hub.
IBR: What does the future hold for Neil Humphrey’s, is it more factual writing or has has your foray into fiction writing inspired you to explore that genre more.
Neil Humphreys: I write what I know and what interests me. I'm working on a children's TV series, a novel and two movie screenplays and possibly a Singapore non-fiction title in time for the nation's 50th anniversary. I like variety in the writing. If the writing doesn't interest me, how can I possibly expect it to interest the reader?
IBR: Are you an organised, disciplined writer?
Neil Humphreys: I've got two screenplays to finish and a football column to write today and I've spent two hours answering your questions and listening to The Stone Roses. What do you think? Seriously, when you're self-employed, you have to hold the gun to your head because no one else does. That said, nothing gets the fingers moving like an upcoming deadline.
Links
http://www.neilhumphreys.net
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Neil_Humphreys
https://twitter.com/NeilHumphreys
Publications
Neil Humphreys (2001) Notes from an Even Smaller Island
Times Editions. ISBN: 9812321764
Neil Humphreys (2003) Scribbles from the Same Island
Times Editions. ISBN: 9812325891
Neil Humphreys (2006) Final Notes from a Great Island.
Marshall Cavendish Editions. ISBN: 9812613188
Neil Humphreys (2008) Be My Baby
Marshall Cavendish. ASIN: B00BYLLBG6
Neil Humphreys (2010) Match Fixer
Marshall Cavendish. ISBN: 9814276294
Neil Humphreys (2011) Premier Leech: A Story of Greed, Sleaze & Corruption
Marshall Cavendish. ISBN: 9814328421
Neil Humphreys (2012) Return to a Sexy Island (2012) Marshall Cavendish. ASIN: B008CZ74TK
Neil Humpreys (December 2013) “Abbie Rose and the Magic Suitcase: Picking up a Penguin's egg REALLY got me into trouble”
Marshall Cavendish International (Asia) Pte Ltd: ASIN: B00H3D8KH2
Neil Humpreys (May 2013) “Abbie Rose and the Magic Suitcase: I trapped a DOLPHIN but it REALLY wasn't my fault”
Marshall Cavendish Children: ASIN: B00D0XHEXA
Neil Humpreys (December 2013) “Abbie Rose and The Magic Suitcase: The Day A Panda Really Saved My Life”
Marshall Cavendish Children: ASIN: B00AF4VTHY
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