Unlike fellow former British colonies India and Pakistan, Malaysia has
yet to produce a Vikram Seth or an Arundhati Roy. There has been no
writer of international stature, or even a literary canon—in Bahasa
or English—that one could call Malaysian.
The Rice Mother, a
delicious fictional cocktail packed with Malaysian flavors, may finally
put the country on the global publishing map. Plainly, debut novelist
Rani Manicka has studied other Asia-themed best sellers such as
Wild
Swans and
The Joy Luck Club to produce a family saga centered
on the tempestuous relationships between mothers and their children. Her
central female character undergoes horrible suffering but triumphs in
such a way that professors will undoubtedly be including
Rice
Mother on the reading list for Gender Empowerment 101. But
Rice
Mother is more than a sarong saga. Its characters are original, its
canvas broad, and Manicka's radiant prose brings out all the dark
lushness of her ultimately tragic tale. Manicka's Malaysia is an
exotically magical land, where ghosts and gods walk together hand in
hand.
The novel begins in pre-World War II Ceylon, when the 14-year-old
Lakshmi leaves her family and moves to rural Kuantan with her new
husband, Ayah. Lakshmi bears six children, and the narrative voice soon
jumps from Lakshmi to her children, who paint a divergent and complex
portrait of their mother. Daughter Anna recounts how Lakshmi stood up to
the Japanese invaders, started a business and hid her earnings, coated
with bird droppings, at the top of a palm tree. "The Japanese made us
all very resourceful," she relates, "but Mother was an undefeatable
force." Sevenese, Lakshmi's son, sees a very different character. "I
look at my mother with horrified fascination," he soliloquizes.
"Material ambition is the compulsion that drives her. Is it possible, I
think to myself, that she does not know how ugly a beast she clasps so
close to her breast?" After the Japanese rape and murder one of the
daughters, the family starts to drift apart. Lakshmi grows into a
formidable matriarch, towering over her scattered, resentful clan,
eventually becoming the rice mother of the title: "The Giver of Life …
In Bali her spirit lives in effigies made out of sheaves of rice … She
is the keeper of dreams. Look carefully and you will see, she sits on
her wooden throne holding all our hopes and dreams in her strong hands."
The Rice Mother is at its most poignant when Lakshmi loses power
over her brood. Her granddaughter Dimple marries Luke, a rich
Japanese-Chinese businessman in Kuala Lumpur. Their romance starts off
passionately, but Luke's eye wanders and their union turns into a frosty
farce. Luke pays a waiter to sleep with his wife and Dimple complies,
hoping the assignation will lead to divorce. To her horror she finds she
has stepped into her husband's new kinky obsession. Luke and Dimple's
twisted relationship provides startling scenes that save the novel from
reading like it's been cooked up from a best-seller recipe book. Some
might feel uncomfortable with the way U.K.-based Manicka has exoticized
Malaysia to woo Western readers, but if you have no hang-ups, you'll
find The Rice Mother a beautiful read.