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Showing posts with label Reviews. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reviews. Show all posts

14 November 2011

BOOK: What Your Teacher Didn't Tell You

What Your Teacher Didn't Tell You - Click Image to CloseIn this book, Farish A. Noor (a Senior Fellow at S. Rajaratnam School of International Studies) sought the ideas of history revolving around Malays and the mix of the Chinese and Indian cultures way back to the Hindu-Buddhism era in Tanah Melayu and lots of other issues which were never told in formal syllabus of our history education. 

Being one of the persons who is looking at other views history of Malaysia in critical ways, the author then puts credible sources that link the issues with the rest of the ethnics in Tanah Melayu and Malaya namely Chinese, Indians and the Peranakans. How interesting it could get is how the relationship between keris and  Buddhism in which many people would have never thought of when they put it as a symbol of a certain race while in fact historically, it is not. Extremists of certain races should notify then why their lack of knowledge and perhaps their lack of enthusiasm to learn about other's cultures bring only harm to them. When we come to look at the issue from a scholarly point of view, we can see how un-intellectual we were when the issue of a politician kissing a keris before were brought to the chaotic discussion about ketuanan Melayu. This notion that keris become an Ethno-Nationalist (ethnic-based symbol) symbol puts a turn to the issue when it is discussed in lengthy details in the book. In this case, if we were taught about it in Sejarah, the students would not get stuck with views of the 'winners of the past' only.

The author is excellent in bringing contemporary issues which we are dealing with such as relationships between races, homosexuality, ketuanan Melayu and how 'racial difference' became a big deal in Malaysia. The ideas portrayed in the book show how we come here this way and understanding the process will turn Malaysians to become more understanding. As I myself was the product of Malaysian education system, I doubt anyone can argue the credibility of his sources which are dealt extensively in the footnotes.

The struggles of PAS and the globalisation values portrayed by Hang Tuah were my favourites. The story of the progressive leader of PAS from 1956-1969, Burhanuddin Al-Helmy puts a new perspective and light into how PAS came into one of the biggest  and most influential parties in Malaysia. The Hikayat of Hang Tuah on the other hand, shows how Hang Tuah himself was already travelled to many parts of the world apart from the ubiquitous stories we heard of him. Why do we focus his stories with Hang Jebat only? There are so much more of him apart from his questionable fights with Hang Jebat. In fact, in my opinion Hang Tuah was more 'globalised' than we are. And he did not just converse in Malay.

The book tells how does Hang Tuah was sent to India to visit the Indian Empire of Bijaya Nagaram by the Sultan of Malacca and spoke keling (no offence intended) to the King. The King then impressed with his linguistic skills and sent an ambassador to Malacca immediately.


"Maka titah Kisna Rayan: “Hai Laksamana, kau ini Peranakan apa?”
Maka sembah Laksamana, “ya tuanku shah alam, patek ini peranakan Melayu, tapi patek dari kechil-kechil ke Majapahit, maka patek berlajar mengaji bahasa Keling dari pada sa-orang Lebai; maka oleh itu patek mengerti sedikit bahasa Keling itu”."

This book enables me to think about many of the issues critically. It brings us differences of opinions which I think is vital to our society. These critical thoughts and how we become a generation that understands stories from many points of view will make Malaysia a better place. While Keris has became the symbol of Malay, it should be the symbol of unity of Malaysian heritage since it is originated from the Hindu-Buddhism kingdoms of the Malays. That is the perfect example. Malaysia would be such a much better place if our politicians read this book. However, will they accept the opinion of this blogger to read the book? No.
Hence, I ask all of you to read it as you are the agents of change of Malaysia. It is quite expensive (RM 40.00 ) though. Borrowing the book from me is highly welcomed. No reasons not to read it. 
Every Malaysian should read this book. It is highly recommended.-The Chukai Insider

11 November 2011

BOOK: The Road- Cormac McCarthy

McCarthy's The Road might be the book that stays in my mind as a fiction which is very simple and yet very much of a substance. Oprah influenced me to buy the cheap version of it at BookXcess

The novel starts with two nameless persons- a father and his son walking on a barren, cold road in America heading coast. Large portions of the story are told to describe the journey from an unknown place to the coastal side of America. Maybe I am not qualified enough to judge the novel as 'all modern novel can do is done here' (Warner, Guardian) but the story is very simple but filled with words that capture your heart and imagination. Within the period of several months, the father and son face cannibals and hoping to come across 'good people'. It is post-apocalyptic and hence the dusty atmosphere. It is not mentioned what catastrophe has happened that left America to be in the situation though. The mother of the son killed herself before the story starts since she could not cope with the situation. What have happened before the story starts is a mystery. The father died when they reached the coast and the son does not know what to do with his father's corpse for three days until one of the 'good guys' comes and save him. 

As mentioned before, the novel is so simple that it keeps the message alive. People do the unimaginable things, including eating their children to survive. As Kirsty Wark of Observer put it- a warning. Some reviews call it as an observation to future as effects of global warming. I study Palaeoclimate and I doubt it though. 

Or you might wish you'd never been born.
Well, beggars can't be choosers.
You think that would be asking too much.
What's done is done. Anyway, it's foolish to ask for luxury in times like these.
I guess so. -Nameless Father and Son dialogue. The Road. 

The book is terrible. Terribly beauty. Simple with a profound message.-The Chukai Insider

09 November 2011

The God of Small Things- Polar?

After long thoughts and reading No Impact Man and Cormac McCharthy's The Road, and of course after someone was angry with the last post The God of Small Things is not really what I actually wrote. I am sorry for that. 


The-road.jpg
It is a thing to me and maybe you have done it too- to compare your current reading with the previous ones. After those two books which still I am reading, they feel 'lighter' in the literary sense. Cewah, bajet literarist! I made up that word!

When I went to read The God of Small Things just by scanning through, it was 'worth the Booker Prize'. The words were beautiful and smart. But I still think if you want to start a reading habit, don't start with the novel. Maybe you can try the lighter Dan Brown's and Harry Potter's. 

The God of Small Things was 'heavy' and not The Lord of the Ring's 'heavy'. It was written almost with the same literary 'heaviness' as Life of Pi but of course in a different way. And to compare it to Salman Rushdie's Midnight's Children, this novel is of course lighter and less fun. It was just after reading the last page, you probably might wonder- was that it? The intricate story told in 'hard' way but 'that's it'? Do you get me? If you don't, read the book.

With regards to the 'scenes' in the novel which me, sometimes a liberal in Terengganu, but always a conservative from KL-ite's view, think these are what good novels are made of. What good novels in common have for me is the ability to make me think and able to introduce me to something new. They are able to make you feel the message behind the storylines. The God of Small Things does that, and maybe my yawning would have destroyed the essence of the message to be portrayed in the novel. Go read the book!-The Chukai Insider

08 November 2011

Because Faidhi's post made me angry

The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy.

From experience, I can say that this book is quite polar. People either love it or hate it. I love it.
I think it's very beautifully written, the prose is divine. I can honestly say I have never read a better written book before. Of course, in terms of substance, it is again quite polar.

There are some rather disgusting scenes in the book which understandably, not many people can tolerate, as evident from the negative reviews. Maybe I can accept them better because I'm in medschool because for me, Arundhati Roy described some of the worst and yet normal of real life events in a very tasteful manner. For example, I just saw my very first autopsy in Poland today and when they cut open the large intestine, well, you should know what's inside if you passed high school biology, most of us managed to keep a straight face. So yes, perhaps my threshold for those things is somewhat higher than most. Still, Arundhati Roy would have triumphed in describing what I saw just now in a delicate elegant prose worthy of the Booker Prize. So I salute her for that, and I totally understand why she felt the need to put scenes, no matter how disgusting, into the story.  It simply adds to the reality of her characters and her story and well, let's face it, India.

For me, the essence of the story is innocence and how a child is robbed away from it. The book shifts from past to present so fast and so randomly that it does take some time to get your bearings, and some might say it becomes boring and he forgets he's reading the book after a while, but I don't think this makes the book any harder to deal with.

I love how childhood is portrayed in the book. I love the prose.

So Faidhi, I disagree.

The God of Small Things

Set in Kerala, a place where I went to visit my long-rooted family, Arundhati Roy's The God of Small Things had somehow managed to make me read it till the end. The book is full with very distinct ways of descriptions but for me, it failed to describe the enormous amounts of coconut trees in the communist state of India. It was like a sea of pokok nyiur when I went there but the writer made no effort to mention about the trees.

Yes, if you are breeding yourself to become book-lover, please do not read this book. You will hate reading for the rest of your life. You will hate English and Kerala and words.
The book is very boring until at some point I forgot that I was reading the book and it was still in my hands. I was lost, but fortunately the story was not so complicated to catch on.

The book won The Booker Prize, but it never won my heart. The novel is about a family in India full of traditions and of course 'tempered with who to be loved'. The caste difference which played a very significant part of India's bygone era was portrayed in the novel- through love and making out of course. 

The plot is like 'violating the plot' if I am to discuss it here as what the review suggested. The plot is so detailed and fabricated in a way that you have to finish the book till the end to understand it. Yes!

There are two English-speaking Kerala Indian twins, with their mother Ammu, their grandmother Mammachi and their great-grandmother Baby Kochamma! Not to forget, the Anglophile uncle of theirs, Chacko. And his wife and daughter, the English Margaret Kochamma and English-Indian Sophie Mol respectively. 

The English wife and her daughter Sophie Mol came to Kerala via 'London-Mumbai-Cochin' flight and somehow somewhere her daughter was killed in a tragic accident. The twins were with her. 

Their mother, Ammu made a forbidden love of different caste (between Touchable and Untouchable) that led to all sorts of tragedy in the family. If you are reading this, it will spoil your reading experience with the book. But I doubt you will read it because The Chukai Insider DOES NOT RECOMMEND YOU TO READ THIS BOOK! The Chukai Insider took five painful days to finish it! -The Chukai Insider

13 October 2011

The Great Train Robbery

OH HAI Faidi.
Aku lapor and tengah tunggu pizza defrost dalam oven, doktau nok wak mende, so...

Book Reviews. That's all I know to write in this blog, anything otherwise would be overshadowed by the blog owner's immensely wide and LOUD knowledge of all things important on this planet. Well, at least in Malaysia lah. Take it however way you want, a compliment, sarcasm, both? Something else entirely? Well, as long as it's appreciated, my inexpert ramblings will find a home here.

The Great Train Robbery by Micheal Crichton, my favourite author in the entire universe.

This book is set in Victorian England, which in my opinion is one of the most interesting settings for literature. The best part is, this book is not written in old English, which most books with a Victorian England setting is prone to. OK, again, I haven't read like that many books, so if I'm wrong, well, don't be mean.

Anyways, it's about how this supermegafoxyawesomehot con-man ala Neal Caffrey plans an elaborate train robbery. I found this book interesting albeit in a Geekish way because I get to learn about Victorian England a lot and unlike other Michael Crichton books I've read, it's not science fiction. So there were not many impossible paragraphs and long words you have to read several times over to digest. It's funny too. So if you enjoy, I don't know, Sherlock Holmes mixed with Dan Brown? Well then you got yourself a Michael Crichton special :)

21 September 2011

Moon Tiger

OK, I have two more days left of my book challenge and I think that gives me, or should give me at least, enough time to finish one more book. So yeah, I FAILED. But in my defence, it IS the summer holidays and I have five more days of it left. So get off my back.

I wouldn't have read as much though if it wasn't for this stupid, totally do-able of course if it wasn't for the given circumstances, but I'll call it stupid now, challenge. So I'm grateful that I took it up.

Shut up, Faidhi. 

This is definitely not a book I can appreciate in the span of three days. The narrative changes from first to third person so fast, and the time setting changes too. One has to be very patient, or at least very educated I guess, to fully appreciate this. I am of course, lacking of both. My knowledge of literature encompasses only that which I have read, and a little bit of high school KOMSAS, which is next to nothing out of the SPM world. My knowledge of history, on the other hand, is slightly more than your average twenty one year old, I think, but only very slightly. So armed with all this, I was able to tolerate 208 pages of this novel within the LIMITED days that I had. Sure, I knew I was losing the book challenge but that doesn't mean I'm giving up before the EXACT date. I am a Hufflepuff for a reason you know. I soldiered on, trying hard to finish this book as fast as I can, although I knew it pretty much killed a lot of the story for me.

There were times when some of the passages passed like a trance for me, to be honest. My eyes and occipital lobe (that's doctor talk right there, people!) were reading for me, but the rest of my brain didn't work so well with them, I didn't understand anything. So thanks a lot for the pressure, Faidhi.

Observe:
“The place didn't look the same but it felt the same; sensations clutched and transformed me. I stood outside some concrete and plate-glass tower-block, picked a handful of eucalyptus leaves from a branch, crushed them in my hand, smelt, and tears came to my eyes. Sixty-seven-year-old Claudia, on a pavement awash with packaged American matrons, crying not in grief but in wonder that nothing is ever lost, that everything can be retrieved, that a lifetime is not linear but instant. That, inside the head, everything happens at once.”
Very beautifully written, no?
The story is about a dying woman, recollecting her memories and slowly but surely unravelling everything, her history, to the reader. 
I hate the protagonist. But I realized what a wonderful book this truly is when my heart broke for her in the end. It really is a remarkably written book, perfect for reading for days on end with a cup of warm tea during the monsoon season. You just have to stopf for a a while when reading a paragraph sometimes. It could be just me of course, to each his own. But read the book. It kind of reminds me of Life of Pi. The beginning was just so daunting for me to read but once all the sea-action started, I truly felt all the background was worth it. 

It feels like the monsoon season right now in Terengganu, by the way. It rains like every night! Beautiful. I've missed Terengganu rain for so long :) 

17 September 2011

The Remains of the Day

Afternoon all.

So here I am, doing something more substantial with my free time after someone told me very blatantly to 'Get a life'. I can't say that certain someone is mistaken though. I have been playing the Smurfs Village way too much after I discovered how to cheat (very effectively, I might add, and very un-Hufflepuff like) for my brother. It's just so much easier to plant your crops, wait a few seconds for it to grow and watch those smurf berries add up rather than waste precious hours fretting and making sure you don't forget to harvest those darned potatoes.

So anyway, here I am. Getting a life.

I finished Kazuo Ishiguro's The Remains of the Day a few days ago and it really deserved the 1989 Booker Prize. It's so nicely written and Kazuo Ishiguro's knowledge about the English world is so extensive that you won't believe he's not a native. Although I guess he pretty much is, growing up there and all. Still...
The book is about an English butler, relating to you his past experience and the 'remains of his day' (he's pretty old). It gives a LOT to think about, not one of those speedy light books that you can skim through and get the gist of, so it's fortunate that the book is only about a hundred pages long or it would have taken me longer to finish. I've realised this relation between they type of content and the duration of reading only this year. Late, I know. Stop sniggering and hear me out. I always thought it was a matter of how fast you can read in general that determines how long it takes to finish a book, a very pompous misinterpretation on my part, but the 'weight' of content really adds up to things. This I discovered very painfully after comparing Solar by Ian McEwan with Garth Nix's Lord Sunday. Solar was a PAIN. More on that later.

The essence on The Remains of the Day, from what I personally gathered and could relate most with, is tradition. And dignity, to some extent.

“It is sometimes said that butlers only truly exist in England. Other countries, whatever title is actually used, have only manservants. I tend to believe this is true. Continentals are unable to be butlers because they are as a breed incapable of the emotional restraint which only the English race are capable of. Continentals - and by and large the Celts, as you will no doubt agree - are as a rule unable to control themselves in moments of a strong emotion, and are thus unable to maintain a professional demeanour other than in the least challenging of situations. If I may return to my earlier metaphor - you will excuse my putting it so coarsely - they are like a man who will, at the slightest provocation, tear off his suit and his shirt and run about screaming. IN a word, "dignity" is beyond such persons. We English have an important advantage over foreigners in this respect and it is for this reason that when you think of a great butler, he is bound, almost by definition, to be an Englishman.”

Pretty nice and thoughtful, eh?
But what I most related to was this:
"Now naturally, like many of us, I have a reluctance to change too much of my old ways. But there is no virtue at all clinging as some do to tradition merely for its own sake."

Being orang Terengganu, born and raised and a girl no less, I understand how it feels to have to 'cling to tradition for its own sake'. I don't know much about the traditions in other Malaysian states, call me ignorant, maybe I am, but I just haven't met anyone from any other states who have had to follow their tradition as badly as what Terengganu mothers and grandmothers have imposed on their daughters. Maybe we do have the same traditions, but since we're the younger generation, we rarely practise them on each other. I personally love it that we have so much tradition but at some point, it does get rather daunting.

Observe;
Tradition number one: when you have a boyfriend, NEVER go to his house, NEVER interact too much with his parents ESPECIALLY his mother and NEVER buat macam nok sangak ke dia. The logic? If the parents get to know you too much and for too long, they might begin to find fault *gasp*. This would still naturally happen of course, once you're married, but once you are, you're pretty much safe from being rejected seeing as no parent would want his son divorced! *gasp*.
I like this tradition :)

Tradition number two: When going to a person's house, always bring 'buah tangan'. And when a person brings buah tangan, always 'balas' when you go their house. IF they happen to visit your house TWICE before you visit them, the next time that you do visit them, you have to bring DOUBLE the buah tangan next time you go to their house. Whew~
This tradition, I've observed, is more practised when going to an elderly person's house, an aunt or uncle for example, and much forgotten in the younger generation.

Tradition number three: When you're the hostess and you're serving your guests a heavy meal, DO NOT join them but get yourself something light instead, like cakes and Raya cookies. The logic: you're the hostess. You're supposed to flutter about, busy entertaining guests and responding to their every whim, YOU SHOULDN'T be tied down eating with them! What an awful thing to do! Have you no manners? (I'm writing this in a very sarcastic way of course)
But I do agree with this bit of tradition. It seems very logical and polite. Unless you have a butler or something. Having a maid doesn't count, by the way. You're still expected to flutter about pleasantly with them in the kitchen, invisible.

Tradition number four: A Terengganu girl must always wear gold jewellery, at least ONE, and bring with her kain batik wherever she goes. I don't mean like the mall. I mean when you leave to study and live an independent life. These items are what you call, semangat tubuh. The logic: kain batik is IMMENSELY useful, I cannot stress this more. It can serve as anything! Sejadah when you need one, alas for practically anything when the surface is too dirty, and the obvious of course; you can wear it. And gold? It just means you'll always have cash on you. Literally.

Tradition number five: When you're married and your mother in law asks you to do something, always ask her how she wants it done. For example, when she asks you to help out with the potatoes, ask her how she wants it, diced or simply cut in half? These things matter you know... The logic: people are different. What you prefer might not be something your mother in law wants in her household.

Tradition number six: Always tukor cebek bila visitors datang. This is totally wrong of course, and is on the verge, if not entirely immersed in, arrogance. Cebek is chair backs, by the way, those lacy things people put on sofas of old. It's not trendy any more so don't do it.
I was discussing this bit of tradition with my mother yesterday and she claims that we have pretty much abandoned the old state of mind where one's household décor and choice of utensils is the essence of one's rank in society. This is pretty much true but we have actually evolved into an even more nasty way of thinking where one's children's education level and choice of university has taken over the role of whimsical cebeks. Now isn't that sad? Who cares where you managed to get your children into or what grades they got?! Ingat, harta dan anak-anak itu cubaan di dunia. (Sorry banyok updates, Faidhi. Aku rasa semangat pulok. Lama doh aku nok tulih pasal ni)
64:15
Sahih International
Your wealth and your children are but a trial, and Allah has with Him a great reward. [64:15]


Tradition number seven: Don't serve boiling hot drinks and add cold water to make them drinkable. NEVER do this. They're rendered even more undrinkable from what you've just done! *gasp* This is perfectly alright of course if it's your own personal cup of coffee but never when entertaining guests. Never.
I don't see any logic in this, though. It escapes me.

Tradition number eight: Never serve food in the periuk straight onto the dining table. Shame on you. Unless you're using a Pyrex periuk or something on par with that. Again, arrogance.

Tradition number nine: Don't serve mugs without coasters, cups without saucers. Don't drink with the teaspoon still immersed in your coffee. Put it aside nicely on the saucer and drink. Don't take the mug out of the kitchen, you might forget to bring it to the sink later and have hell to pay when your mother in law finds out.
These traditions, I have sadly, pretty much ignored :)

Tradition number ten: ALWAYS HAVE RICE in the house. Try to serve rice to visitors as often as you can for rice is considered the best harta you can offer to share. Melayan tetamu itu wajib :)

Tradition number eleven: When older people are conversing with each other, sit quietly, back straight and smile politely. NEVER forget to smile. Muka masam is a crime!

Well, I feel I've more than gotten a life now. So I will continue brewing potions on Pottermore now if you don't mind. I still don't feel like a Hufflepuff :(

“The evening's the best part of the day. You've done your day's work. Now you can put your feet up and enjoy it.”

08 September 2011

I am having withdrawal syndrome

So here we are, the first of my so called book reviews. I'm only writing this to vent my frustration and to get over my Percy Jackson phase.
I'm scared I might not be able to finish all the books on my 'challenge list' on time because I just finished the Percy Jackson series and like all good typical teen fantasy series, it's leaving me with this huge bottomless pit full of agony and sadness in my stomach.

Reading your favourite childhood book is like visiting an old friend.

I first picked up Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief by sheer luck (pause to rip off my sister's ridiculous keyboard protector thing off her laptop. I don't understand why people put up with these flimsy plastic things. To keep of the dust? Why?) when I was fifteen, or sixteen. It was a great book! Fast paced, very sarcastic humour (my favourite kind) and full of Greek mythology, a subject I've always been interested in. I stopped after the second book and now that I'm out of teens, I'm finally continuing with the series which is great!
I read the third, fourth and fifth book feverishly in the span of two days and since they're all pretty much one story, all the books are blended into my head so that I can't recall which plot detail is from which book anymore. All in all, my favourite is the final one, Percy Jackson and The Last Olympian (whoops, almost wrote Harry Potter there). I love the final battle, I love figuring out who's the bad guy, who's the spy, who the prophecy is about. I love googling more info about each Greek character that comes up (Yes, that's the kind of person I am, guilty).
Rick Riordan is a very good writer in his genre. He doesn't try to show off with his words and he's created a very believable world. There's not too much detail and no extensive explanations as in some fantasy books, Garth Nix's The Morrow Days series, for instance. That makes for a very fast read, lots of laugh out loud moments, and the plots are very neatly tied together.

The thing about the series is that there's no happily ever after ending, like The Lord of the Rings and the Harry Potter series. I mean, when you finish those books, when I finished them at least, I felt content. The characters were all given a 'place' in their world, all was well. Bravo. But the Percy Jackson series ended in a way that you still wanted to know what was going to happen to all of them, hence the withdrawal syndrome. So I'm glad that Rick Riordan is picking up from where he left of with his Heroes of Olympus series. I haven't, and will not be getting around to reading that just yet cause I don't want to experience this ache of waiting for the next book all over again. Most of the same characters will be in the new series, I heard, so there'll be more of Percy Jackson and my favourite character, Annabeth Chase.

And here ends my book review.

It's a great book series if you enjoy light fantasy. It's funny if you have my sense of humour. I'm sure most people are aware of the Percy Jackson series due to the highly-not-true-to-the-book-but-pretty-good-and-well-cast-movie-version-if-you're-not-a-crazy-die-hard-fan-and-willing-to-watch-the-movie-with-a-grain-of-salt-and-open-mind so I don't think an extensive introduction to the series is required.

Read if it's your cup of tea. And if you didn't finish the series when you were in high school like me, read it to visit an old friend.

03 September 2011

The Chukai Insider Great Challenge 2011


OK Faidhi, let's make it official.



Challenge Accepted!

The challenge: I have to finish all the books I listed in my summer book list by the 23rd of September, 11.59pm. 
As proof, I have to write reviews of all the books on The Chukai Insider. 

If I don't finish the challenge, I get HUMILIATION! And you get to gloat.
If I win, you get HUMILIATION and as a gift, you will buy me a sofa set of MY CHOICE when (and if) I get married. 

The List:

Lord Sunday by Garth Nix
Percy Jackson & The Titan's Curse by Rick Riordan
Can You Keep a Secret by Sophie Kinsella
Benny & Shrimp by Katarina Mazetti
Water For Elephants by Sara Gruen
The Westing Game by Ellen Raskin
Solar by Ian McEwan
War of The Worlds by H.G. Wells
War & Peace by Leo Tolstoy
Twelve by Nick Mcdonell
The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy
The Remains of The Day by Kazuo Ishiguro
The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho
The Great Train Robbery by Michael Crichton
The Assassination of Jesse James by Ron Hansen
Big Fish by Daniel Wallace
Stieg Larsson's Millenium Trilogy
Orchard on Fire by Shena Mackay
The Rainmaker by John Grisham
Muhammad by Karen Armstrong
The Tyrant's Novel by Thomas Keneally
Holes by Louis Sachar
The Memory of Running by Ron Mclarty
Circle of Friends by Maeve Binchy
Skellig by David Almond
A Wrinkle In Time by Madeleine L'Engle 
Moon Tiger by Penelope Lively
The Hot Kid by Elmore Leonard
Staggerford by Jon Hassler
July's People by Nadine Gordimer
Mrs Dalloway by Virginia Woolf


The catch: NO CATCH

'Till the 23rd~


The Chukai Insider