A ‘Si Tanggang’ with a cause
An ‘exile’ writing about growing up in Malaya/ Malaysia has lessons to teach us about diversity and acceptance.
I LIKEN J.K. Asher, the author of The Inverted Banyan Tree and the way thither, to “Si Tanggang” – the character in the Malay moral fable who travelled the world only to come back years later, with little understanding of what happened to his place of birth.
But Asher is a Tanggang with a Cause. Despite spending 17 years abroad (in Australia to be exact), she balik kampung (came home) by writing about a place that helped define her, a little enclave in Port Dickson, Negri Sembilan.
This Tanggang, “an exile” (her own words), couldn’t resist the temptation of writing about her days growing up in Malaya/Malaysia. Her formative years came rushing back. Even as a “displaced person” (again, her own words) she can’t forget her childhood and the people around her who have affected her so much.
And interestingly the sound of the azan, the call for the Muslim prayers, impacted her in more ways than one. She grew up listening to the azan, in fact loving it.
Azan is simply a call-out by the muezzin at the designated time. It is very much part of a Muslim community.
Interestingly for a non-Muslim like Asher, the azan has a special meaning. Perhaps it is about acceptance, about diversity, about tolerance and more.
Anyone living in a Malay village back in the 50s and 60s would be drawn to the simplicity of village life, where social norms were observed, and religion alongside culture played an important role.
Within that construct, Asher created her characters – men and women who lived in that period, where innocence was not yet lost, humility the rule of the day and decorum was observed to the letter. Not only that, Asher’s keen attention to history’s bitter hold of the present is also remarkable.
She knows what history means. She uses history as the backdrop, skilfully weaving it as a tapestry of happenings, big and small. It is within that setting she places the love story in this novel that is both complex and riveting – more so because it involves the various races in pre-Independence Malaya.
And what a love story it was, replete with suspense and intrigue, with a minefield full of clear and present dangers and more importantly, a forbidden one. It is a story about a Serani (Eurasian) Roman Catholic girl and two Malay gentlemen who were in love with her.
But I am drawn to the discourse on The Inverted Banyan Tree, particularly pertaining to the concept of “cultural appropriation” which is taking on a new dimension, especially in the West.
There is a lot of debate about cultural appropriation at a time when racism is taking centre stage, especially in the United States. The concept in itself is interesting – the adoption or use of the elements of one culture by members of another culture.
While there are some who look at cultural appropriation or misappropriation with a negative connotation, I would like to take it positively. Trans-cultural diffusion is an integral part of cultural transformation. Therefore cultural appropriation should be viewed as inevitable and contributing to diversity and free expression.
Asher’s judicious and clever use of the Malay culture, infusing it with her own, is commendable. The very strength of this novel is the audacious use of different cultures and with it, worldviews and perspectives.
This is one of the best literary works I have read recently. My only wish is that it gets published in Britain to qualify for the coveted Booker Prize. Less deserving novels have won anyway.
I also believe this novel demands serious attention. It must be read by all Malaysians. Under the difficult circumstances that we are in now, we need novelists like Asher to make sense of the turmoil, the trials and tribulations of this beloved nation of ours.
Her characters – Mariam, Ummah and Ismael – despite their imperfections and misgivings, have seen better days as a nation. This is a nation that needs a lot of soul-searching.
Asher is helping us to bridge the bridgeable – while it is not too late to do so. She has given the characters hope despite their hopelessness, and faith despite their weaknesses.
She has expressed humanity in a way that we have always wanted to. She can’t change the nation single-handedly. Like her characters, we are merely simulacra of portraits and images but we find strength in our differences and our diversity.
For that reason, we should celebrate the publication of The Inverted Banyan Tree.