Richard Keys and Andy Gray should be asked to leave their jobs as commentators on Sky Football with immediate effect. There is just no two ways about it. This might seem strong words, but given their blatant and inexcusably sexist comments caught off air about an assistant referee, I see no other recourse.
For those of you who haven't heard, Keys and Gray suggested that someone needed to explain the offside rule to female assistant referee Sian Massey after a controversial decision (which ironically she actually got spot on and they got wrong), saying the league had "f**ked up big time" in appointing female officials, and castigated a previous female referee's assistant as "f**king hopeless".
The response? Sky called their comments completely unacceptable and stated that the pair had been suspended from broadcasting the Monday night match between Chelsea and Bolton. I find this woefully inadequate. By way of comparison, let's examine instances where broadcasters have made blatantly racist comments (both on and off the air) and the consequences they suffered.
One famous incident involved Ron Atkinson, who was commenting for ITV on a Champions League semi-final match between Monaco and Chelsea when he stated that Marcel Desailly was "stated in some schools as a f**king lazy thick nigger". He had thought he was off the air, but the remarks were broadcast. He immediately resigned.
In another non-footballing incident, a New Zealand TV anchor Paul Henry deliberately mispronounced Delhi Chief Minister Sheila Dikshit's name as "dick shit" and "dip shit" adding that it was somehow additionally appropiate "because she is Indian, [so] she would be walking down the street dick in shit wouldn't she, you know what I mean?". He resigned shortly afterwards.
The footballing community has sent out a very strong message that racism will not be tolerated in the sport, in any shape or form. This has gone a long way to address the blatant and horrific racism that pervaded the game. In the past, fans found it not merely acceptable but fun to make monkey noises whenever an opposing black player touched the ball. Bananas were even thrown onto the pitch.
Racism has not been completely eradicated. The treatment Marco Balotelli has received from opposing fans in Italy is just one case in point, more so our own intrinsic tendency to still stereotype players based on race (black players are big, physical; white players are smart and cultured footballers). However, a clear message has been sent that any blatant racism will not be tolerated. When Atkinson made those comments, he knew immediately that he had no recourse but to resign.
Keys and Gray are not about to resign. The fact that do not feel the need to is telling. Sexism is as ingrained in football as racism was in the past. Football is a lads game after all, a Saturday afternoon pastime at the pub with your mates. We've all made similarly sexist jokes about the game. How many of us have casually joked about our girlfriends never being able to understand the offside rule? Women also do the same and laugh about the fact that only men would take pleasure and interest in watching 22 other men run around a field for 90 minutes.
What is not tolerable is when gender becomes grounds for baseless facile personal attacks as was the case with Keys and Gray. What is most shocking, as a colleague and friend put it, is their casual banter suggested that they thought every other footballing bloke would feel the same way, though they might not express it as openly (and as unwisely) as the two of them did. The notion of female assistants, let alone referees? Woman having a serious part in top flight football? Ludicrous!
Really? There are female referees in many other top flight leagues such as the Bundesliga, which can lead to the occasional awkward moment as Peter Niemeyer of Hertha Berlin found out recently. Women have run the lines in the last two Champions League. Women are refeering at the Rugby World Sevens, even at the Snooker World Championships (arguably a sport which is even more of a male preserve).
Football is lagging behind. What needs to be done is to send out as clear and unequivocal a message condemning sexism as the sport did in taking a zero tolerance policy towards racism. That is the only way we can eradicate it from the game.
Let there be no gray (pardon the pun) area about how football deals with blatant sexism. It is completely and utterly unacceptable. Anyone guilty of it should have no place in the game, in any capacity. Keys and Gray have to go.
25 January 2011
14 January 2011
Books Bought Recently
In a vain attempt to reduce my already overflowing bookshelves (or rather to prevent further additions to them), I decided to begin taking note of my book purchases, and the rationale behind them. At year end, I will also do a review of how many of these books actually got read. This is also part of my long term aspiration to try and write about the books that I read, given my utter inability to remember anything I have read more than a few months afterward. Anyhow, this is the latest installment from January:
Beginner's Guide to Epistemology | Robert Martin: I obviously do not need yet another introductory book on epistemology, at least not for my own purposes. Since I am teaching it for Knowledge and Inquiry this year, I am buying this in view of mining it for teaching resources later this year. Or so I tell myself.
Lectures in the History of Political Philosophy | John Rawls: Despite the mind-numbing dullness of much of A Theory of Justice, Rawls was actually a good engaging lecturer, by all accounts. Given my genuine interest in political philosophy, this is a good addition, particularly since I never had a chance to examine historical thinkers (Locke, Hobbes, Rousseau) at University. I also managed to justify this on account of my involvement in the Raffles Renaissance Programme - I will be doing the Social Contract later this term and I need to read up. As a programme covering great books of social and political thought, this book will definitely come in handy.
Justice: Key Concepts Series | Tom Campbell: I have been eyeing this book for some time and I was initially put off by the price before I finally caved. It looks to be an excellent summation of the various theories of justice. I have learned never to underestimate the usefulness of books which effectively summarize complex ideas and debates. This looked to be one of them. Now, I just have to get round to devoting time to examining the issue of justice in greater detail and reading all the stuff I accumulated on political philosophy in the first place.
The Wind-Up Girl | Paolo Bacigalupi: Who would have thought! A book purchase made as a result of reading the Straits Time Sunday life section! It is a sign of how much I have neglected Science Fiction that I had no idea that this novel won both the Hugo and Nebula Awards for best novel. In times past I read Hugo and Nebula winners fairly voraciously. Bacigalupi was interviewed in the paper and my interest was definitely piqued. A novel set in 2030 Bangkok involving genetic manipulation and a mysterious made to order (genetically that is) girl? I just had to get it!
Worlds of Exile and Illusion | Ursula K Leguin: I was speaking to one of my student's last year about Ursula K LeGuin and she was lamenting how Le Guin's earlier "Hainish" novels were largely out of print and very difficult to find unlike The Left Hand of Darkness (which won both the Hugo and Nebula). Then I chanced upon this reprint, a compendium of the first three hanish novels, and I decided that I just had to get it. One of my quirks is that I still try and collect out of print, good science fiction, despite largely neglecting the genre in the past two years (or more). Science Fiction is probably the only field in which my knowledge extends beyond the status quo (what you would find in bookstores) to past works which are no longer well know, or commonly available. As an aside, I used to bump into that student many mornings coming out of the MRT station on the way to school. Inevitably, we both would have a different book in our hand each time. As two of the few people who were truly voracious readers, we would have a short chat about books, and authors. I certainly will miss those conversations.
The Secret Speech | Tom Rob Smith: I first chanced upon Tom Rob Smith when I borrowed his debut novel Child 44 from a university library. It was one of those impulse borrows ( book looks interesting, let's just grab it) which are less damaging that the impulse buys that might result from one being at a book warehouse sale or a bookstore. I was looking for an easy read on the train ride home, instead I got that rare thing - a taunt well written thriller which was an intelligent exploration of Stalinist Russia. The premise itself was mind-bogglingly simple, yet compelling. A young child is found murdered, a detective sets out on the trail and discovers more deaths. What seems a simple run of the mill idea takes on huge significance in the context of an utopian communist system, where serial killing is simply deemed to be impossible. I was delighted when the book was longlisted for the Booker Prize in 2008 given its obvious quality, but still surprised (how often do thrillers get such recognition?). On the strength of Child 44 alone, I bought this follow up novel. While it has been out for some time, I haven't seen a copy in a bookstore until now, so once I chanced upon it, I naturally bought it rather unthinkingly. Let's just hope Tom Rob Smith doesn't suffer from the curse of the second novel.
In Other Rooms, Other Wonders | Daniyal Mueenuddin: The subcontinent is known for producing brilliant writers, and a seemingly never-ending conveyor belt of new talent - Arundhati Roy winning the Booker prize with her debut novel, Kiran Desai with her sophomore effort, Aravind Adiga rising suddenly to prominence with his first book. Mueenuddin seems to be the latest subcontinent writer to rise to garner such attention. He certainly fits the mould - ivy league educated, worked in white collar job (banking) before returning to his home country to manage a farm. Mueenuddin is Pakistani and is already being touted as an authentic voice of his country. I bought it, as one often does, purely due to the lavish praise heaped on it, and the fact that it was nominated for a slew of awards. I also thought of a colleague who loves fiction from the subcontinent when I bought it - the fact that I could lend it to her, and introduce her to yet another exciting young writer somehow added justification to the purchase.
A History of Christianity | Diarmaid McCulloch: Why oh why do I keep doing this? If there is one area where I have collected massive (both in quantity in number and the size of the books themselves) unread volumes it is history. I find a new history of say The Nazi Regime, or a new volume in a multi-volume history of Europe, or a new book chronicling Krushchev in the Cold War. It is highly acclaimed (by fellow historians). I, of course, would love to find out more about that particular historical period. I buy the book. I put it on a shelf - all 600-700 pages of it. At best, I skim a couple of chapters. The book is never read. When it comes to volumes of authoritative history, I suffer the ultimate manifestation of the book buyer's curse - the myth of best intentions. That myth goes along the lines of - I have always wanted to learn more about this subject; this book is well written and critically acclaimed; I might not read it immediately and it does look a bit daunting, but of course it will be worth the effort and I will get round to reading it eventually. Eventually never happens. So why did I buy a 900 page history of Christianity? Because I am interested in the subject. Because Diarmaid McCulloch is the foremost historian of Christianity writing today, because the book was lavished with great praise, and book of the year awards from individuals ranging from the Archbishop of Canterbury to Melvyn Bragg. Because I will read it someday. Perhaps after I finish McCulloch's own history of the Reformation (purchased at Oxford in 2005, not yet started), or perhaps after I have read equally noted historian Paul Johnson's own History of Christianity (purchased Sunny bookstore Singapore, read first 60 pages out of 700). Perhaps never.
Beginner's Guide to Epistemology | Robert Martin: I obviously do not need yet another introductory book on epistemology, at least not for my own purposes. Since I am teaching it for Knowledge and Inquiry this year, I am buying this in view of mining it for teaching resources later this year. Or so I tell myself.
Lectures in the History of Political Philosophy | John Rawls: Despite the mind-numbing dullness of much of A Theory of Justice, Rawls was actually a good engaging lecturer, by all accounts. Given my genuine interest in political philosophy, this is a good addition, particularly since I never had a chance to examine historical thinkers (Locke, Hobbes, Rousseau) at University. I also managed to justify this on account of my involvement in the Raffles Renaissance Programme - I will be doing the Social Contract later this term and I need to read up. As a programme covering great books of social and political thought, this book will definitely come in handy.
Justice: Key Concepts Series | Tom Campbell: I have been eyeing this book for some time and I was initially put off by the price before I finally caved. It looks to be an excellent summation of the various theories of justice. I have learned never to underestimate the usefulness of books which effectively summarize complex ideas and debates. This looked to be one of them. Now, I just have to get round to devoting time to examining the issue of justice in greater detail and reading all the stuff I accumulated on political philosophy in the first place.
The Wind-Up Girl | Paolo Bacigalupi: Who would have thought! A book purchase made as a result of reading the Straits Time Sunday life section! It is a sign of how much I have neglected Science Fiction that I had no idea that this novel won both the Hugo and Nebula Awards for best novel. In times past I read Hugo and Nebula winners fairly voraciously. Bacigalupi was interviewed in the paper and my interest was definitely piqued. A novel set in 2030 Bangkok involving genetic manipulation and a mysterious made to order (genetically that is) girl? I just had to get it!
Worlds of Exile and Illusion | Ursula K Leguin: I was speaking to one of my student's last year about Ursula K LeGuin and she was lamenting how Le Guin's earlier "Hainish" novels were largely out of print and very difficult to find unlike The Left Hand of Darkness (which won both the Hugo and Nebula). Then I chanced upon this reprint, a compendium of the first three hanish novels, and I decided that I just had to get it. One of my quirks is that I still try and collect out of print, good science fiction, despite largely neglecting the genre in the past two years (or more). Science Fiction is probably the only field in which my knowledge extends beyond the status quo (what you would find in bookstores) to past works which are no longer well know, or commonly available. As an aside, I used to bump into that student many mornings coming out of the MRT station on the way to school. Inevitably, we both would have a different book in our hand each time. As two of the few people who were truly voracious readers, we would have a short chat about books, and authors. I certainly will miss those conversations.
The Secret Speech | Tom Rob Smith: I first chanced upon Tom Rob Smith when I borrowed his debut novel Child 44 from a university library. It was one of those impulse borrows ( book looks interesting, let's just grab it) which are less damaging that the impulse buys that might result from one being at a book warehouse sale or a bookstore. I was looking for an easy read on the train ride home, instead I got that rare thing - a taunt well written thriller which was an intelligent exploration of Stalinist Russia. The premise itself was mind-bogglingly simple, yet compelling. A young child is found murdered, a detective sets out on the trail and discovers more deaths. What seems a simple run of the mill idea takes on huge significance in the context of an utopian communist system, where serial killing is simply deemed to be impossible. I was delighted when the book was longlisted for the Booker Prize in 2008 given its obvious quality, but still surprised (how often do thrillers get such recognition?). On the strength of Child 44 alone, I bought this follow up novel. While it has been out for some time, I haven't seen a copy in a bookstore until now, so once I chanced upon it, I naturally bought it rather unthinkingly. Let's just hope Tom Rob Smith doesn't suffer from the curse of the second novel.
In Other Rooms, Other Wonders | Daniyal Mueenuddin: The subcontinent is known for producing brilliant writers, and a seemingly never-ending conveyor belt of new talent - Arundhati Roy winning the Booker prize with her debut novel, Kiran Desai with her sophomore effort, Aravind Adiga rising suddenly to prominence with his first book. Mueenuddin seems to be the latest subcontinent writer to rise to garner such attention. He certainly fits the mould - ivy league educated, worked in white collar job (banking) before returning to his home country to manage a farm. Mueenuddin is Pakistani and is already being touted as an authentic voice of his country. I bought it, as one often does, purely due to the lavish praise heaped on it, and the fact that it was nominated for a slew of awards. I also thought of a colleague who loves fiction from the subcontinent when I bought it - the fact that I could lend it to her, and introduce her to yet another exciting young writer somehow added justification to the purchase.
A History of Christianity | Diarmaid McCulloch: Why oh why do I keep doing this? If there is one area where I have collected massive (both in quantity in number and the size of the books themselves) unread volumes it is history. I find a new history of say The Nazi Regime, or a new volume in a multi-volume history of Europe, or a new book chronicling Krushchev in the Cold War. It is highly acclaimed (by fellow historians). I, of course, would love to find out more about that particular historical period. I buy the book. I put it on a shelf - all 600-700 pages of it. At best, I skim a couple of chapters. The book is never read. When it comes to volumes of authoritative history, I suffer the ultimate manifestation of the book buyer's curse - the myth of best intentions. That myth goes along the lines of - I have always wanted to learn more about this subject; this book is well written and critically acclaimed; I might not read it immediately and it does look a bit daunting, but of course it will be worth the effort and I will get round to reading it eventually. Eventually never happens. So why did I buy a 900 page history of Christianity? Because I am interested in the subject. Because Diarmaid McCulloch is the foremost historian of Christianity writing today, because the book was lavished with great praise, and book of the year awards from individuals ranging from the Archbishop of Canterbury to Melvyn Bragg. Because I will read it someday. Perhaps after I finish McCulloch's own history of the Reformation (purchased at Oxford in 2005, not yet started), or perhaps after I have read equally noted historian Paul Johnson's own History of Christianity (purchased Sunny bookstore Singapore, read first 60 pages out of 700). Perhaps never.
7 January 2011
The Haunted Hotel
The Haunted Hotel | Wilkie Collins
It has been my practice over the past few years to start the year with a flight of fancy, usually a fantasy novel of some kind. I had purchased The Haunted Hotel while browsing at Kinokuniya Bookstore at Bugis Junction, killing time before dinner with a friend. Having read the first forty pages in the bookstore itself, I was intrigued enough to purchase it and find out whether Countess Narona's marriage to Lord Monbarry would result in the dire premonitions she so feared.
Wilkie Collins was familiar to me on the stength of his two most famous works - A Woman in White, a staple of Gothic literature; and The Moonstone, considered by many to be the forerunner to the detective novel. I had never gotten round to reading either of those two works despite studying Gothic literature in school, and being a fan of detective and crime fiction, with The Moonstone being an influence on many fine writers in the genre.
It is tempting to see The Haunted Hotel as an interesting mixture of these two genres - the gothic novel and the detective novel. Elements of the supernatural do seem to be at play in the novel - dark premonitions, disturbing visions (or possibly hallucinations), a clearly overwrought and thus unreliable narrator, but these are tempered with rational explanation based on systematic enquiry (such as a report from an insurance office). This delicate balance is seen most clearly in the denoument of the novel's final act with a clever little plot device that offers the readers the chance to believe the conclusion as either the fantasy of a deranged mind, or the confessions of a dark and deadly crime.
Wilkie Collin's writing style is engaging, and captivating. You won't find here the long, conjuncted sentences of his peers such as Charles Dickens (who acted in two of Collin's melodramas). The novel is very readable (as much as that is an overused term), and it builds up the story and the tension gradually. It takes reading the great Victorian mystery and crime novels to appreciate how dire modern thrillers are (I insist on making a distinction between thrillers which I view as pulp novels, and crime novels which is a genre with more artfulness). This novel, slight at 200 pages, made me want to read Collin's two most famous works mentioned above.
All in all, this was a much darker flight of fancy than I am used to starting the year with. It was certainly no sword and sorcery fantasy novel, but it was perhaps a richer experience for that. Besides which, it is also in keeping with 2011 being a more serious, focused year for me.
It has been my practice over the past few years to start the year with a flight of fancy, usually a fantasy novel of some kind. I had purchased The Haunted Hotel while browsing at Kinokuniya Bookstore at Bugis Junction, killing time before dinner with a friend. Having read the first forty pages in the bookstore itself, I was intrigued enough to purchase it and find out whether Countess Narona's marriage to Lord Monbarry would result in the dire premonitions she so feared.
Wilkie Collins was familiar to me on the stength of his two most famous works - A Woman in White, a staple of Gothic literature; and The Moonstone, considered by many to be the forerunner to the detective novel. I had never gotten round to reading either of those two works despite studying Gothic literature in school, and being a fan of detective and crime fiction, with The Moonstone being an influence on many fine writers in the genre.
It is tempting to see The Haunted Hotel as an interesting mixture of these two genres - the gothic novel and the detective novel. Elements of the supernatural do seem to be at play in the novel - dark premonitions, disturbing visions (or possibly hallucinations), a clearly overwrought and thus unreliable narrator, but these are tempered with rational explanation based on systematic enquiry (such as a report from an insurance office). This delicate balance is seen most clearly in the denoument of the novel's final act with a clever little plot device that offers the readers the chance to believe the conclusion as either the fantasy of a deranged mind, or the confessions of a dark and deadly crime.
Wilkie Collin's writing style is engaging, and captivating. You won't find here the long, conjuncted sentences of his peers such as Charles Dickens (who acted in two of Collin's melodramas). The novel is very readable (as much as that is an overused term), and it builds up the story and the tension gradually. It takes reading the great Victorian mystery and crime novels to appreciate how dire modern thrillers are (I insist on making a distinction between thrillers which I view as pulp novels, and crime novels which is a genre with more artfulness). This novel, slight at 200 pages, made me want to read Collin's two most famous works mentioned above.
All in all, this was a much darker flight of fancy than I am used to starting the year with. It was certainly no sword and sorcery fantasy novel, but it was perhaps a richer experience for that. Besides which, it is also in keeping with 2011 being a more serious, focused year for me.
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