« 40 Years of Silence | Blog home | The SBY Visit »

Do Southeast Asians have a better understanding of their region than Westerners? I've really enjoyed reading the highly praised novel by Tash Aw, Map of the Invisible World. It covers much of the ground of Christopher Koch’s Year of Living Dangerously, although when the latter first appeared, Koch was criticised for basically reproducing a Western, colonialist, view of Indonesia. Map of the Invisible World is very well written for the most part, with highly poetic and moving passages evoking the sense of loss, separation and longing that moves and motivates the main characters. It captures much of the atmosphere of Jakarta.

Yet problems remain.

The novel’s characters express the need for an understanding history, but somehow the novel is lacking in historical understanding, by which I mean that its representation of the historical context, and its attention to detail, is lacking. Aw gets correct one key fact usually ignored by other writers, that Sukarno’s famous “Year of Living Dangerously” speech was made on 17th August 1964 (ie that year was over before the 30th September 1965 “Coup”), but he makes a number of other basic mistakes. Some of these are minor, and the kind of thing only a pedantic historian like me would worry about, for example that Jakarta’s civilian airport in 1950 was at Kemayoran, not Halim (p. 68); and I doubt there were any self-flushing urinals, even in the most elaborate of hotels, at the time (p. 246)? Some are also geographically confused, for example the Great Post Road goes along the north coast of Java, not through Yogyakarta (p.109); and I am not sure about seeing lots of clove trees on Bali (p. 178)—wrong side of the Wallace Line.

Some of the changes were probably made for some kind of effect, for example renaming the Hotel Indonesia, but does this explain why the Welcome Monument in the centre of Jakarta is called “The Victory Monument” in the book (p. 212)? Generally, Aw is prone to presentism, as with the many references to heavy traffic in Jakarta (eg p. 19, “the never-ending traffic…a river of patched-up, rusting steel”). Such traffic may be the case nowadays, and at least since the 1980s in my experience, but those who can remember Jakarta in the 1960s comment on its lack of traffic (Firman Lubis' Jakarta 1960-an is a great memoir of the period). There was no parking ramp leading from the Hotel Indonesia, cars stopped on the streets (p. 250). And no one wore crash-helmets (p. 284). Dutch being deported from Indonesia would not have been sent my aeroplane, but by ship (p.68).

If these atmospherics are wrong, so too are some of the political issues. Political tensions in the regions are blamed on the Transmigration policy (p. 118-119). While this policy did indeed start in the 1960s, and drew on previous Dutch policies, it was very small scale, and only had a major impact on ethnicity in the New Order period. More serious is the depiction of the Communist Party of Indonesia sending death squads around the island from which Adam comes. These are at best creations of Suharto-era propaganda, but even Christopher Koch, who makes his Cold War politics clear, does not makes such blatant misrepresentations. Political violence in this time mainly came in the form of clashes over land ownership, and in clashes at rallies, not in systematic murder. The key character, Adam, is induced by radical activist Din to plant a bomb in the Hotel Java (ie the Hotel Indonesia) to coincide with Sukarno’s visit to the hotel. There were no Communist attempts to assassinate Sukarno, indeed in 1964 this would have been the last thing the Party would have wanted, all the assassination attempts came from the Right. This kind of misrepresentation clouds the imaginative insights of the novel.

One of the criticisms of Western writers is that they cannot fully characterise indigenous figures, that they depend on focal intervening Western characters. The most engaging character of Map of the Invisible World, the most fully rounded, is the American academic, Margaret. Adam, the main Indonesian character, of necessity remains elusive, because the whole point of the novel is that he cannot get in touch with his memories and his past. One of the major Indonesian characters is political activist and terrorist Din. Din is very two-dimensional, and very difficult to emphasise with, his characterisation is probably the main weakness of the novel.

As a post-colonial statement, Aw’s novel represents little progress on Koch’s, or at least it demonstrates that “insiders” do not have exclusive insights into Southeast Asia.


Hi Adrian, I just chanced upon your review of Tash Aw's book. You sum up so well the key weakness of the novel - the 'atmospherics'. Having said that, it is so rare to read a novel in English set in Indonesia that I lapped it up. When he was in Hobart a while back I did ask him about some of the things you raise - why he changed the name of the Hotel Indonesia, for example, but he was very non-committal in his replies.

amazing book

Novel yang menarik tentunya, bisa nambah pegetahuan

Its a very nice Book.

Interesting post Adrian.

Having recently finished the book myself, I was also struck by the strong similarities with The Year of Living Dangerously.

As well as the overall tone, many of the settings and plotlines could have been taken straight from Koch's novel (not least the sub-plot of the duplicitous, communist Indonesian assistant [Din/Kumar]).

I agree with you that the Western characters are much more deeply drawn out than the Indonesians - Aw seems to make such liberal use of the Orientalist cliche about "inscrutable Asians" that his Asian characters barely seem to come alive.

Interestingly, though, when I interviewed Aw earlier this year, he insisted that despite living in London and writing in English, he still thought of himself as a Southeast Asian writer.

That doesn't really come across in this book or his first one - which reads more like a colonial-era novel.

Your point about "presentism" could also be applied to Aw's descriptions of KL as a gleaming, fast-paced modern city. I think that's more KL today than it is KL in the 1960s.

Very interesting post. I am constantly amazed at the different interpretations of post-colonial Indonesian history I encounter from people of different age groups here. Maybe it's an indication of how the history textbooks have changed and been rewritten along with the changes in government.

Just a quick question. Actually, cloves are a very common crop in northern Bali although I couldn't be certain how long for. Is it likely that they were a fairly recent introduction?

Post a comment

(If you haven't left a comment here before, you may need to be approved by the site owner before your comment will appear. Until then, it won't appear on the entry. Thanks for waiting.)

Enter the code shown below before pressing post