Accessed 5-31-2015
Non-fiction:
Print.
Edited by Kyi Kaung:
Co-authors: Daw Khin Khin Thein, Khin Pwint Oo, Ma Myo
Nwe, U Hla Phyu Chit, Daw Sin Theingie, Daw Tin Htar Nu, Daw Yee May Kaung, Dr.
Khin Saw Nyein.
Kindle edition below:
Sunday, January 03, 2016
Friday, January 01, 2016
Quote of the day--from Mahmood Darwish
Quote of the day--from Mamood Darwish, Palestinian-born poet--
We love life if we find a way to it.
And we plant, where we settle, some fast growing plants, and harvest the dead.
We play the flute like the color of the faraway, sketch over the first corridor a neigh.
We write our names one stone at a time, O lightning brighten the night.
Excerpt from my autobiographical novel Once--by KM Kaung
Quote of the day--from my autobiographical novel--Once: I Weep for You, My Native Land--
"No," Glamis admonished, holding Anouk by her sleeve, back at the edges of the crowd lining the streets, "You must not move too far to the front. No, that is not good, Anouk. Stand back here behind me."
Anouk now understood that when Elder Sister spoke, it was final.
"You're a young matron now, you must have the proper einteré or demeanor. Besides, soldiers and officers, Burmese or Japanese, can pick up and take away any woman they want. Best to keep a low profile."
"Please Elder Sister," Anouk pleaded, "What harm can it do? I just want to show my support. A bunch of leaves doesn't cost too much. Please."
"No. I told you before," Glamis replied shortly. "No. You're my responsibility when Naing is not at home. Besides, he won't like it."
Anouk hated Glamis most when she used this, "Naing won't like it," argument.
It seemed to her that she should be able to do whatever she, Anouk, wanted. But she prudently kept her mouth shut. It wouldn't do to have a scene in the street, and for two women to call attention to themselves, especially when it was so hard to rell what was going on from day to day, with the Japanese and all.
Copyright Kyi May Kaung, a k a KM Kyi May Kaung
1-1-2016
Chile story The Lovers by KM Kaung
And my all time New Year's glitz story, inspired by the ballet dancer aunt of a Brazilian friend, who struck poses in the living room when she got drunk--
Kauk Site Ma review of KM Kaung's stories, Band of Flesh and 53 Red Roses--
Kauk Site Ma--review of my stories--Band of Flesh and 53 Red Roses--
copied and pasted from Amazon site--
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful
which I loved reading. I find many interesting things in this ...
By on April 27, 2015
Format: Kindle Edition
A Review of “Fifty Three Red Roses” by K.M. Kaung.
“Fifty Three Red Roses” is one of the novellas of Dr. Kaung, which I loved reading.
I find many interesting things in this story, such as the way the author portrays the points of view of the man and the woman vividly.
She has described beautifully a married woman's life (Donna is the wife of an American diplomat). Mrs. Woods has to sacrifice her own time for her other half, and to endure her life to fit her husband's career… ”days she ended up cooking what Bob likes…”--”Bob had been incredibly insensitive to give her a fur coat…”
So that is what Donna had to accept, the gift her husband bought for her, though it is not what she enjoys.
…but a year after formal separation Donna can enjoy her life without restraint.
Dr Kaung also touches on a “spirit” if NOT “the evil spirit”...that are known to be homeless, whirling round “the wheel of Samsara”.
Even up to now (in Burma), many people still believe that when a person dies his/her spirit dwells for seven days in and around the house, haunting their familiar haunts, so that monks have to chant a “Kammavacca” or a Buddhist Prayer Script at the death of a human being.
“Kammavacca” is a Buddhist Prayer Manuscript made from various types of materials (but the material made from palm leaves are most common) containing pages of leaves on which words in the Pali Language are inscribed.
Kauk Site Ma-
February 18, 2015.
copied and pasted from Amazon site--
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
1 of 1 people found the following review helpful
which I loved reading. I find many interesting things in this ...
By on April 27, 2015
Format: Kindle Edition
A Review of “Fifty Three Red Roses” by K.M. Kaung.
“Fifty Three Red Roses” is one of the novellas of Dr. Kaung, which I loved reading.
I find many interesting things in this story, such as the way the author portrays the points of view of the man and the woman vividly.
She has described beautifully a married woman's life (Donna is the wife of an American diplomat). Mrs. Woods has to sacrifice her own time for her other half, and to endure her life to fit her husband's career… ”days she ended up cooking what Bob likes…”--”Bob had been incredibly insensitive to give her a fur coat…”
So that is what Donna had to accept, the gift her husband bought for her, though it is not what she enjoys.
…but a year after formal separation Donna can enjoy her life without restraint.
Dr Kaung also touches on a “spirit” if NOT “the evil spirit”...that are known to be homeless, whirling round “the wheel of Samsara”.
Even up to now (in Burma), many people still believe that when a person dies his/her spirit dwells for seven days in and around the house, haunting their familiar haunts, so that monks have to chant a “Kammavacca” or a Buddhist Prayer Script at the death of a human being.
“Kammavacca” is a Buddhist Prayer Manuscript made from various types of materials (but the material made from palm leaves are most common) containing pages of leaves on which words in the Pali Language are inscribed.
Kauk Site Ma-
February 18, 2015.
Dream nightmare of 1-1-2016. Why is Mandalay so big?
A very unusual dream for New Year's Day.
I was 75 inside, but 35 or 55 outside, and as Khine Khine, I was engaged to be married to some rich person in Mandalay.
I went first to the big mansion, which was so vast it had an industrial size elevator.
The elevator had plastic doors, and it kept stopping, during which I saw the illustrious residents.
I stopped or wanted to stop, but my female companion/handler/niece took me upstairs, where I was supposed to get ready for my wedding.
So I did.
I had a white wedding dress that I never had in real life, and high heeled, spike heeled shoes.
I soon had to go for the wedding.
But the guide insisted we walk, and we were soon in a bad neighborhood.
It started to rain, and at one point she dashed across the traffic lights, and I got separated from her.
Instead, I got to the outskirts of Mandalay, and ran into a group of people who were quite friendly, but at one point someone tried to kidnap me by holding me by my shoes.
However, the crowd prevented that.
I had a long conversation with them, including why their language was so bad, for I had known, I said, that Mandalay was noted for its language and culture.
At one point we saw a vendor of water lilies, and when I said I liked the bright pink ones, the vendor gave me one big bunch, which I held against my chest, so it made a big wet stain on my white dress.
They got me to the outside of the big new church, and I walked around on the outside of the exposed brick structure.
The people said it was called Saint Victoria something or the other.
I said it did not worry me what it was called or where I was married, but I was glad they had a great big church.
Finally, I got to the altar.
I must have been asleep, because someone said something to me.
I opened my eyes, and it turned out to be the bridegroom who looked as if he was 24 or 25.
He said, Wake up. Wake up for me.
I said, You don't know how old I am. I don't think I can do this. When the pastor asks, Will up etc. take this man for your lawful wedded husband, I am going to say No.
And that will be the end of it.
I was still holding the big wet bunch of water lilies.
He said, It hardly matters, so long as you keep telling me stories. I heard you have a lot of stories to tell.
I asked who made the wedding arrangements. I said I did not care who made the arrangements, so long as it was his big fat uncle. I said I did not like big fat uncle whose gut had burst as he did not eat enough roughage.
The bridegroom said he made the wedding arrangements himself.
I said, But I don't need anything so elaborate.
I was married on the lawn the first time, and only wore ordinary clothes.
He said, But I wanted you to have everything.
This was after I found out some cronies, cronies of cronies and cronies of cronies of cronies, all had TB and maybe HIV too.
I thought, what is the use of being so rich, if your body is riddled with disease?
Copyright KMKaung
1-1-2016
I was 75 inside, but 35 or 55 outside, and as Khine Khine, I was engaged to be married to some rich person in Mandalay.
I went first to the big mansion, which was so vast it had an industrial size elevator.
The elevator had plastic doors, and it kept stopping, during which I saw the illustrious residents.
I stopped or wanted to stop, but my female companion/handler/niece took me upstairs, where I was supposed to get ready for my wedding.
So I did.
I had a white wedding dress that I never had in real life, and high heeled, spike heeled shoes.
I soon had to go for the wedding.
But the guide insisted we walk, and we were soon in a bad neighborhood.
It started to rain, and at one point she dashed across the traffic lights, and I got separated from her.
Instead, I got to the outskirts of Mandalay, and ran into a group of people who were quite friendly, but at one point someone tried to kidnap me by holding me by my shoes.
However, the crowd prevented that.
I had a long conversation with them, including why their language was so bad, for I had known, I said, that Mandalay was noted for its language and culture.
At one point we saw a vendor of water lilies, and when I said I liked the bright pink ones, the vendor gave me one big bunch, which I held against my chest, so it made a big wet stain on my white dress.
They got me to the outside of the big new church, and I walked around on the outside of the exposed brick structure.
The people said it was called Saint Victoria something or the other.
I said it did not worry me what it was called or where I was married, but I was glad they had a great big church.
Finally, I got to the altar.
I must have been asleep, because someone said something to me.
I opened my eyes, and it turned out to be the bridegroom who looked as if he was 24 or 25.
He said, Wake up. Wake up for me.
I said, You don't know how old I am. I don't think I can do this. When the pastor asks, Will up etc. take this man for your lawful wedded husband, I am going to say No.
And that will be the end of it.
I was still holding the big wet bunch of water lilies.
He said, It hardly matters, so long as you keep telling me stories. I heard you have a lot of stories to tell.
I asked who made the wedding arrangements. I said I did not care who made the arrangements, so long as it was his big fat uncle. I said I did not like big fat uncle whose gut had burst as he did not eat enough roughage.
The bridegroom said he made the wedding arrangements himself.
I said, But I don't need anything so elaborate.
I was married on the lawn the first time, and only wore ordinary clothes.
He said, But I wanted you to have everything.
This was after I found out some cronies, cronies of cronies and cronies of cronies of cronies, all had TB and maybe HIV too.
I thought, what is the use of being so rich, if your body is riddled with disease?
Copyright KMKaung
1-1-2016
On Franz Neumann's Behemoth--
Not light reading in the first few minutes of the new year, but an important and essential one nonetheless--
I was reading Raul Hilberg's memoir, The Politics of Memory, in which he says the size of the Holocaust Museum in DC is very important. I must go back again and go through the whole experience again.
In the past, I only went for one event, as I reasoned I had been to Auschwitz and Majdanek in Poland already, so why go to a museum--but it seems the museum visitor is given a card (an ID card of a victim) and then "goes through life" with this computer card at various points in the Museum, I guess with the Nazis coming to the house, being deported in a cattle car and so on.
In c. 2001 C3 and S. went, but I sat on a bench on the Mall and waited for them. I still find my visits to Majdanek and Auschwitcz memorable, traumatic and unforgettable, though it was in 1968-69.
In any case this book, has a large online sample
Including a complete introduction by Peter Hayes--
a table of contents and the introduction by Neumann--
Just reading this sample, I can't help but think about Burma--
in this book the behemoth can only be removed by military action and Nuremberg-style trials, and Peter Hayes says that in practice, the amount of de-structuralization in (West) Germany was much less than Neumann had thought.
I wonder about de-structuralization in Japan after defeat in WW II and about Cambodia after defeat of Khmer Rouge by Vietnam.
I haven't read the Neumann book yet, but now I have reviewed it, maybe more thoroughly than some reviewers, I might as well post this on Amazon.
Even the online sample, you should read it in small doses, as it is abstract and theoretical, but theoretical does not mean it is untrue--
like all theory it is an attempt to make sense of a situation, and I feel that it is much much better than all the jargon and cliches written about the so-called democratization and reform, both so-called, in Burma, said to be taking place right now.
I did not think at all I would go this route intellectually in 2016, but it seems I will.
On Facebook, if you can follow me please do, if you can't look at the pictures of flowers etc, but I myself will go this route.
Burmese Rohingya supporters should also read the arguments that anti-semitism is ingrained in German culture.
A slow and dark read, but at the end you will understand a whole lot more, I am sure.
KMKaung
1-1-2016
Thursday, December 31, 2015
Fantastic lead sentences--
Attn writers and "journalists"--here is an example of an excellent leader or lead sentence from CNN today--
(CNN)Disrupted terrorist plots. Increased police presence. Warnings to stay alert.
Fears of terrorism and stepped-up security provide a sobering backdrop to planned New Year's Eve celebrations around the world.
In the United States, federal and local security officials are tightening security in high-profile locations, including New York . . .
Like miss big bust Hpin Karr Sway telling me she wanted to talk to me and taking me into the cafeteria, where she told me she never ate proper meals, she just ate snacks (and drank, I found out).
She then laid out the popcorn she was eating in a triangular pattern and said I must write that way.
Showing me the crocodile king the ways of the water.
So now I writing something in the form of her swaying buttocks.
Take that.
KMKaung--
Portfolios of Hot Air--
Life and Art--12-31-2015
Tuesday, December 22, 2015
Quote from my novella Black Rice
Quote of the day--from my novella Black Rice--
Black Rice clenched his fists and got up rapidly from his chair, determined to kill his father. "You're the one who's the son of a bitch, married to the bottle!" His father laughed derisively, and lunged at him, but he was too drunk for his left hook to land accurately on Black Rice's chin. Black Rice dodged and he punched air. His mother ran between them and hugged Black Rice protectively. From behind her huge bulk, looking over her shoulder, Black Rice told both of them, "That's it. I'm leaving. I'm damn tired of both of you. I'm not eating your rice a minute more than I need to. I'm joining the army."
That sobered them both up.
You may buy Black Rice on Amazon.
http://www.amazon.com/Black-Rice-K-M-Kaung-ebook/dp/B00D0EHGYQ
Black Rice clenched his fists and got up rapidly from his chair, determined to kill his father. "You're the one who's the son of a bitch, married to the bottle!" His father laughed derisively, and lunged at him, but he was too drunk for his left hook to land accurately on Black Rice's chin. Black Rice dodged and he punched air. His mother ran between them and hugged Black Rice protectively. From behind her huge bulk, looking over her shoulder, Black Rice told both of them, "That's it. I'm leaving. I'm damn tired of both of you. I'm not eating your rice a minute more than I need to. I'm joining the army."
That sobered them both up.
You may buy Black Rice on Amazon.
http://www.amazon.com/Black-Rice-K-M-Kaung-ebook/dp/B00D0EHGYQ
Monday, December 21, 2015
Impt post--Images--Saw Ohn Nyun by Sir Gerald Kelly
Important post--images--Sir Gerald Kelly, Saw Ohn Nyun--
You won't like to hear this, but I have to tell you.
1. The family never got any of these 5 or 6 fine paintings but only reproductions--maybe only one reproduction, and in those days before World War II, reproductions were not very good.
2. A crony has bought one painting and taken it back to Burma.
3. Shan Chief's lost everything, including their home and States.
--I feel there should be a movement to get these important paintings back to the family of Saw Ohn Nyun.
I feel they should work with the lawyer who got back Klimpt's The Woman in Gold for Maria Altman, the original owner.
I have already given this info to the family, but I cannot spearhead this myself as old and too much to do.
Good luck.
Something like a Go Fund Me acct should also be set up for expenses, like air fares and research, and phone calls etc.
Good luck.
KMKaung
12-21-2015
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Wednesday, December 16, 2015
My novella -- The Rider of Crocodiles --
Good reading for the winter will transport you to a warm or hot place, where, in the words of Carl Sandburg, "anything can happen."
Two reviews of my novella--The Rider of Crocodiles by KM Kaung--copied and pasted from Amazon--
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful
A very engrossing book
By MW on June 15, 2014
Format: Kindle Edition
Ms. Kaung's new novella "The Rider of Crocodiles" is a very engrossing book following in the footsteps of her previous novellas, "Black Rice " and " The Lovers". It is a true story based upon actual events and people. I highly recommend it to readers who are interested in the history of Siam and Burma.
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It sounds like a Believe-It-or-Not for us
By Khin Pwint Oo on April 27, 2015
Format: Paperback Verified Purchase
My Review on K M Kaung’s Novela “Rider of Crocodiles”
I remember the fictitious story, I must say, which our kyee kyee (my father’s elder sister) relates to us. It sounds like a Believe-It-or-Not for us, (as we were quite young to comprehend), on hearing that they descended from Zinme, Yodaya or Siam in those long-gone days [now known to many as Chaingmai, in Thailand]. We know where Siam is [we learned in school days].
Kyee Kyee seemed to be conceited saying that their great-great grandfather was once from a Royal Palace (he was brought to Burma as POW and said to be relocated in one part of Pakkoku). Later, he was married to a “tain taja kjaun: ama kji:” literally, it means - a well wisher/benefactor of a monastery built on/with a hundred pillars; and finally settled in Pakkoku [not remember the name of the village], Burma and so the story ended there.
Anyway, I love so much to listen to her stories, whether it looks fictitious or not, and also on this story…which really is a nice story to find out about compassion between the father and the son; and the days of yore in Old Siam.
When I grew up, I become knowledgeable about the POWs. I came to understand the situation of suffering…when King Manuha, in his incarceration, had lived on exile till his last moment. I had been to his Stupa in Myingaba in Bagan, sad to see the reclining Buddha statue, lying in extremely tight position…depicting the suffocation ‘mun: kja’chin:’ as of oral history I was told.
I find many things which take me along with the story on ‘Rider of Crocodiles’… where the author gives the feature of Commoners and Royal Family – the “Lords of Head and Hair” in her words – or - the’ u:-hsan-pain shin bajin mja: (the absolute monarch); her sharing to the readers…. the love and affection - as a father [crocodiles eggs collector] towards his son, the boy who only has a father and not his mother… on how he brought him up, the concerns he has for his son’s future career; and a good knowledge of the father, bestowed to his son on handling crocodiles.
The story was said to have no intention on any political motive, but she - as the author - has given the readers - a taste of imperialism; a disgraceful experience of war, the circumstance of those ‘Conquerors’ and the ‘Conquered’; and to me I can sense the fretfulness as being a POW; the emotional feeling it can have as a living being, on the lost of a life of one’s attached family member – here, Saman towards his ever companion Nga-yeik, for instance; and his country of origin where he grew up and live a happy life with his own people.
So the whole story strikes a chord on me of the ‘Nature’s Law’, which I remembered what “Anantathuriya”, a tutor to the King Naratheinkha, about the time of his death spake four stanzas “lin ga”.
Khun Oo
Yangon, Myanmar
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Saturday, December 12, 2015
Poem--Here come the Burmese--by KMKaung
Burmese--
Here they come with their little cookie cutters
their yardsticks literally much shorter
their tunnel vision
their preconceived notions
their biases
their racism
their xenophobism
their anti-Westernism
their extreme nationalism
their sexism
their snobbishness
their great Burman policies
their central control
their all round nastiness.
What else?
Their illustrious pasts
their great religion
their great history
their generals
What else?
Their betel spit saliva
their small mindedness
their lack of true education
their constant meditation.
Their military.
Their paranoia.
Their "I am better than you
and we are all shwe (gold)"
and you are pe "pair" beans
especially if you are Hispanic.
And then there are the whites
some of them
who want to be more Burmese than Burmese--
who mostly marry Burmese--
It is not amazing
that some people I know
have given up
this part of themselves entirely
and started learning
French, German, Mandarin--
KMKaung
12-12-2015
Thursday, December 10, 2015
Marie, Marie, a poem by Kyi May Kaung--
Quote of the day--from TS Eliot's
The Wasteland--see link below--
And when we were children, staying
at the archduke’s,
My cousin’s, he took me out on a
sled,
And I was frightened. He said,
Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we
went.
In the mountains, there you feel
free.
I read, much of the night, and go
south in the winter.
TS Eliot, The Wasteland.
Marie Marie
For Marie who needled me and needled me, for maybe 3000
miles.
You don't know anything about me really.
You often bark up the wrong trees.
But I can't waste time correcting you or arguing with you.
I have more important things to do.
Most of the time I pretend not to hear or to be asleep.
Lately I have started, taking off
my hearing aids in both ears.
And as for your devilish delving
into my marriage and my life,
you will find nothing there--why
muck around in an empty grave.
And I will write my memoirs or I probably won't
but in any case
I will only write what I want to write.
Don't get too curious.
If you wish to know you can read my fiction.
I won't give you any free copies of anything anymore either.
You who cut up frogs for your cutting pleasure.
Even a dead frog can only give up
what it wants.
Don't waste your time
and don't eat when you get bored.
It's not my job to entertain you, though it was nice to be
driven around by you
so long as you don't drive me crazy.
It's a long haul and you just can't make
snap judgements in 2 minutes
as you do.
What can you know?
I have lived 2 times longer than you,
and at the very least
read more books, while you,
hide the titles of the bodice busters
you borrow from the library.
Oi vey
hard to see you pushing your mother like that
but one day
there will be no one
there
to push.
Too bad.
KMKaung
12-10-2015
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Death Fugue by Paul Celan
Important post--Death Fugue by Paul Celan--
his best poem, certainly the one I like best.
FGM--one of the worst abuses of women possible--
My novella--FGM--about Female Genital Mutilation, the worst kind of abuse possible--
Again, this is a novelistic--i.e imaginative treatment,
on why maybe some women/mothers go along with it.
It is NOT a comprehensive report, and my aim was not to provide information, I am not an expert on it, but to get you to thinking, and in this I think I succeeded.
I cannot help it if you think it is "not well written"--I write as well as I know how and I don't know what your standards are for "well written"
So that's that.
If you wish to read/buy it, it is available here in different formats.
In the new year, we should concentrate on things that are wrong with this world, right? and what can be more wrong than FGM?
And you can't expect a medical report, or a social report from a $6 novella or short story.
For those who did buy it, read it and went to the trouble of thinking about it and posting a comment on line, Big Thank You.
FYI, specialists reports are commissioned for tens of thousands of $$$ and as this is a short slice of life story, by one writer, this is all I can do and intend to do on this subject.
Hemingway once said he only wrote on one theme once--
That's all I have to say right now--
you can buy it here--
It is what I say it is A story--about the mutilation of women, it's not an encyclopedia article nor a comprehensive medical and social economic report on this issue.
It's your job to find out more if you are interested in this issue.
KMKaung
12-20-2015
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