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Bitter-sweet Harvest


A doomed inter-racial relationship, dashed hopes, betrayal, deception, manipulation, fear, hatred, obsession… or is it enduring love?  

 

First, the chupu on the cover is misleading.  There aren’t any Babas or Nonyas, nor any reference to Peranakan heritage.  

[Also, there are no Indians or Eurasians, which was surprising, and there are two Filipinos in the latter part of the story, which was somewhat random.]

 

The plot does have its interesting ideas and twists but An Mei and Hussein’s relationship, from which it develops, is a little weird.  Now, anyone can predict that this Chinese Christian-Malay Muslim couple would face problems, and all the other important characters have misgivings about their relationship, but the two don’t, until it is too late.  They are smart Oxford grads and Hussein is from a prominent, politically ambitious family so it’s unrealistic for them to be oblivious to the possibility of problems.  Also, why make An Mei a Christian when this detail plays no role in the story?

 

The brother-sister pair of Ahmad and Shalimar is odd too.  I thought Shalimar is an Indian Muslim name but they are supposed to be Malay.  What are Ahmad’s motives?  Is he pushing to be connected with Hussein’s family just to raise his family’s (which is just him and Shalimar) status?

 

The story felt like one of those Taiwanese dramas with hundreds of episodes and also like a Mediacorp show touching on race issues.  I’d  prefer it to be a lot less meandering than it is (a whopping 414 pages).  There were portions that I found unnecessary, such as An Mei’s parents running their food business in England, and a lot of the action that is set in Singapore and Italy, which seemed to be included just to let An Mei have a way out.  Through falling in love with Mark (whom she inexplicably decides should be told her whole complicated tale when she just gets to know him) and living in Italy, she can claim that Mark is Tim’s father and Hussein’s family has no way to bring her or Tim back to Malaysia legally.  There are also sudden descriptions of the setting at various points, that don’t help the story along.  On top of that, some details about Singapore are inaccurate (thought fact-checking is a basic step in producing a historical novel?).  The story is set in the post-racial riots 1970s, so there would have been NO Changi Airport (1981), chewing gum law (1992) or toilet flushing law (sometime in the 1990s, I think) then.  

 

The conversations are too formal among family members and even between An Mei and Hussein.  For example, “We are Malaysians.  But you are Malay.  And I am Chinese.  You are Muslim.  I am… I am a Christian!”  Do couples talk like that to each other?  Why the need to state their nationality, race and religion to each other?  As a reader, I’d like this kind of information come more naturally through the story.

 

How the Indonesians spoke to Ahmad when he escaped there is also strange.  Obviously he is Malay and they wouldn’t need to limit themselves to single words!  For example, the lady could have spoken to him in a normal sentence but just says “makan” and mimes the act of eating, as though he were a westerner who didn’t understand either bahasa.  And what is so funny about Ahmad being dirty that the other lady laughs with the children, “kotor”?

 

The reviews I found online were mostly by people with western sounding names and generally, they sang the book’s praises.  I only remember one Malaysian who reviewed it, and did not like it – too much of a cliché, too flat, and such.  I agreed more with the Malaysian.  

 

I wonder how this book has been received by Malay Muslims in Malaysia.  Even I am not comfortable with how it is Hussein and his family, with Ahmad as conniving accomplice, who are responsible for everything that goes wrong, are all bad, and of course get their just desserts.  In addition, at the beginning, Hussein has no qualms about having a Chinese Christian girlfriend and the pair have obviously slept with each other before marriage.  Quite a bit to disapprove of, no?  

 

Finally, a few thoughts on a few characters.  I’m not sure about the writer’s intentions but I saw Hussein as a bit of a Willoughby.  I think he did love An Mei to the end but was pressed into several unfortunate decisions by the circumstances.  Two minor characters stuck in my mind too.  One is the maid Fawziah, who helps An Mei and Shalimar, and also helps Hussein find peace in the end.  Why did she help the two wives?  There is no explanation of her motives or of her being an innately good person or whatever.  The other is Jose, one of the random Filipinos.  Why does he talk like he is an intellectual?  

 

Of course, there is also the question of what happens to Ahmad after he escapes.  I assume this is a deliberately untied loose end that could facilitate a sequel.  However, I think I’ve read enough of his crooked involvement with the main characters.  I don’t feel like I need to know what happens to him or them next.

 

Bitter-sweet Harvest

by Chan Ling Yap

Marshal Cavendish, 2011

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