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A review by mrswythe89
Tale of the Dreamer's Son by Preeta Samarasan
5.0
A new novel from Preeta Samarasan is a major event for Malaysian literature and I was grateful to have the opportunity to read it early, courtesy of NetGalley and publisher World Editions. This ambitious novel is centred around the dissolution of a syncretic religious sect in Cameron Highlands, founded by an idealist seeking a remedy for Malaysia’s persistent problems of racism and communalism. (He’s “one part bona fide soogee-cake-eating Eurasian one part Anglo-Indian well and truly stirred together”, for the Malaysians reading this; the story is narrated by his son, who’s living as a Malay-Muslim when we first encounter him as an adult looking back on the defining event of his childhood.)
Like the author’s first, the book is structured around key turning points of modern Malaysian history — here, the May 1969 race riots and Ops Lalang in 1987 — and takes these as a jumping off point to examine in close detail the intimate betrayals of family. Other preoccupations familiar from Preeta’s other writing: the response of children to the many failures of the adults around them, the operation of religion as a tool of domination, the pressure of other people (“what will the neighbours think” as a persistent concern of the characters), the impact of class and — of course — race.
I found the book immersive and compelling, the premise fascinating, but I’m not surprised it faced challenges getting published: this is a thoroughly Malaysian novel and makes few compromises for an assumed Western reader for whom much of the context and some of the language will be unfamiliar. I enjoyed this, of course, but it may make the book a more challenging read for some. I’ve always admired Preeta’s powers as a prose stylist and these are in full evidence here: the language is colourful, muscular and sure-footed; the voice ironic and often hilarious, even when dealing with tragedy and atrocity. I’m obsessed with literary Manglish and it’s a real (and rare!) pleasure to read a whole novel so skilfully narrated in it.
The structure and plot of the book present a couple of challenges for the pacing. The story is told in chapters alternating between the past and present, which can mean you’re whipped away to another era just as you’re getting invested in the events of one timeline. The narrative is structured as a build-up to a revelation about how and why the commune fell apart, so there is a lot of book where nothing much of conventional plot significance happens and then a small section at the end where a bunch of twists hit all at once. This wasn’t a problem for me as I don’t read literary fiction for the plot, but I could see the pacing losing some readers.
I have mixed feelings on how the novel handled gender and queerness, but these are spoilery; I’ll be interested to see what others think as more people read it.
Summed up: sad, funny, angry and individual, by a writer few can match for craft and insight into Malaysia. I thought it was a really interesting book and look forward to reading the author’s next.
Like the author’s first, the book is structured around key turning points of modern Malaysian history — here, the May 1969 race riots and Ops Lalang in 1987 — and takes these as a jumping off point to examine in close detail the intimate betrayals of family. Other preoccupations familiar from Preeta’s other writing: the response of children to the many failures of the adults around them, the operation of religion as a tool of domination, the pressure of other people (“what will the neighbours think” as a persistent concern of the characters), the impact of class and — of course — race.
I found the book immersive and compelling, the premise fascinating, but I’m not surprised it faced challenges getting published: this is a thoroughly Malaysian novel and makes few compromises for an assumed Western reader for whom much of the context and some of the language will be unfamiliar. I enjoyed this, of course, but it may make the book a more challenging read for some. I’ve always admired Preeta’s powers as a prose stylist and these are in full evidence here: the language is colourful, muscular and sure-footed; the voice ironic and often hilarious, even when dealing with tragedy and atrocity. I’m obsessed with literary Manglish and it’s a real (and rare!) pleasure to read a whole novel so skilfully narrated in it.
The structure and plot of the book present a couple of challenges for the pacing. The story is told in chapters alternating between the past and present, which can mean you’re whipped away to another era just as you’re getting invested in the events of one timeline. The narrative is structured as a build-up to a revelation about how and why the commune fell apart, so there is a lot of book where nothing much of conventional plot significance happens and then a small section at the end where a bunch of twists hit all at once. This wasn’t a problem for me as I don’t read literary fiction for the plot, but I could see the pacing losing some readers.
I have mixed feelings on how the novel handled gender and queerness, but these are spoilery; I’ll be interested to see what others think as more people read it.
Summed up: sad, funny, angry and individual, by a writer few can match for craft and insight into Malaysia. I thought it was a really interesting book and look forward to reading the author’s next.