by Cherlene Lau Suet Ling
A while ago, I was browsing through booksactually.bigcartel.com for a book that would provide some bite-sized entertainment on a lazy Saturday. I was immediately drawn to Verena Tay’s compilation, Balik Kampung 2A: People and Places, because of (a) its unique title, and (b) the synopsis suggested the overarching theme of place-making and geographical imaginations—as a human geographer myself, I am very interested in such ideas, and I am even more curious to find out what others have to say about different local sites.
Compiled in 2013, Balik Kampung 2A is a collection of eleven short stories written by people from all walks of life, and whom have resided for at least a decade in the various neighbourhoods which have been designated as the setting in their respective works. Also, Balik Kampung 2A is the sequel to Balik Kampung, and like its predecessor, consists of tales that will delight the reader with stories of everyday realities and the intimate connection between human interiority and space. Next, I would like to comment on the title: “balik kampung” is a Malay term that when translated into English, means “going home”. Personally, I feel that Tay’s compilation has been aptly named – each story is a slice of memory (albeit a distant one) that brings us to “the heart place” – home.
Disclaimer: I have thoroughly enjoyed reading every story in this collection, but to keep this review short (and its word count reasonable, ha!), I will mention two personal favourites. Admittedly, selecting my favourites has been a difficult process – it is akin to asking a mother to choose a favourite child!
My first choice would be Joshua Ip’s “Peace Is A Foot Reflexology Parlour”, simply for its candour in narrating an introvert’s desire for space in an enclosed neighbourhood where one would almost seem to never fail to meet an acquaintance. What is even more fascinating and comic is Kok Leong’s use of Singlish when he finally asserts his desire for quietness when it is robbed from him even in the parlour—the local vernacular adds a distinct local flavour to the prose, and the reader’s shared understanding of it nurtures a sense of mutual understanding. It is worthwhile to consider how Singlish expresses one’s emotions more adequately than English in Ip’s story, especially in the everyday context between fellow Singaporeans. On a more serious note, various themes that are pertinent in social life are also embedded within: overcrowding, and even the commodification of solitude in a society that stresses on compactness and density.
My second choice would have to be Robert Yeo’s “Something to Remember”. Yeo’s work is comparatively graver and more sombre, but engaging and thought-provoking nevertheless. What stood out to me are the decay and deaths of several landscapes in the story, and also the departure of the protagonist’s young love, Asha. One of my favourite lines would be what Andy (Poon’s friend) says:
“In Singapore, you can’t go away too long. You come back and the building is not there anymore”… (p. 141)
In my opinion, Andy speaks for many people in Singapore. On a deeper level, it reflects the tension between state-dictated processes of place development, versus the everyday person’s attempt of place-making. Also, Poon returns to find a surprise—a new birth—but does it symbolise a new beginning, a blank page? Yeo leaves such questions unanswered and the reader is left desiring to seek closure.
For short stories that shows the resilience of the human spirit, flip the pages to Cyril Wong’s “The Mistake” and Carena Chor’s “The Tontine Leader”. For ones that tell tales of lost youth and yesterdays, you will enjoy Woon Chet Choon’s “The Bush”, Ng Swee San’s “Missing” and Sonny Lim’s “65 Eden Grove: Morning”. For tales that embody a darker tone and call out for the reader’s sympathies, these stories are poignant starting points: Sharon Lim’s “Amy’s Story”, Alex Mitchell’s “Forgotten” and Lynn Dresel’s “Anak”.
The ‘shortness’ of the stories has, by no means, lessen the depth of meaning encapsulated within the text. Certain themes and motifs which connect the text with a social world outside have been encapsulated and hidden behind motifs and metaphors—they have to be interpreted and unpacked by the reader. As such, these stories provide more than just mere entertainment—each is a slice of personal subjectivity within a time-and-space specific context. Balik Kampung 2A ultimately evokes in the reader more questions than a sense of fulfilment, leaving him or her with a feeling of incompleteness as he or she leaves the realm of the story and back into the real world. In essence, I highly recommend Tay’s Balik Kampung 2A to anyone who is looking for tales that tug one’s heartstrings, and anyone who wants a slice of nostalgia and (personal) history as told through the lens of everyday people living in our home, Singapore.