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And the Rain My Drink
445pages. poche. Poche.
307 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1956
About the author
Han Suyin
89 books111 followersHan Suyin (Pinyin: Hán Sùyīn) is the pen name of Elizabeth Comber, born Rosalie Elisabeth Kuanghu Chow (Pinyin: Zhōu Guānghú). She was a Chinese-born Eurasian author of several books on modern China, novels set in East Asia, and autobiographical works, as well as a physician. She wrote in English and French. She died in Lausanne, Switzerland in 2012.
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May 24, 2019
Han Suyin was deep red in political convictions and blazingly scarlet in her personal life. It is with some regret then that I must acknowledge that "And the Rain my Drink" is an absolutely brilliant novel. The topic is the Malayan Emergency of 1948-1960 which was in fact a guerilla war waged between the British based in the cities of the Malayan peninsula and Communist partisans in the jungle. Published in 1956, it was written before the final outcome was known. Han Suyin as a doctor in a critical-care hospital and the wife of a British Police officer was in an excellent position to view events. If you have no interest in Malaya, you should still find the novel interesting for its description of how an urban society combats an insurgency based in the countryside.
Readers will need some fortitude to cope with Han Suyin's ghastly purple prose which is particularly obtrusive in the first third of the book. However, as she advances her powers of observation and satire become more prominent. "And the Rain my Drink" has the great merit of improving as the reader gets deeper into it.
Han Suyin makes a number of important points for the reader interested in the history of the events. First she makes it clear that the Communist insurgents were overwhelmingly Chinese. They had learned how to fight a guerrilla war under the Japanese occupation. When the WWII ended they discovered that the British had accorded virtually all positions of privilege in the new society to the Malays. Consequently, they returned to the jungle to resume their fight for self-determination. They relied on friendly villagers for food and funded themselves through the extortion of wealthy Chinese landowners and merchants.
The British responded by interning the villagers who were helping the communists. Han Suyin provides marvellous accounts of the bungling involving in the round-ups and of the life in the camps. The best part of her novel is her descriptions of how the British recruited informants and extracted information from them. Han Suyin presents a highly negative picture of the informants who betrayed their comrades for cash and other benefits. She also noted that once they ran out of real information they would invent things to keep the payments coming.
Han Suyin clearly disliked the Malays whose prime objective was to exclude the Chinese from political power, government employment and the liberal professions. While loudly proclaiming themselves to be "anti-colonial", they were anxious that the British maintain a presence in the "independent" Malayan federation in order to suppress the communist Chinese insurrection.
Han Suyin portrayed the British administrators, military officers and policemen and judges serving in Malaya as being corrupt and dimwitted. Most had held positions elsewhere in the British Empire prior to coming to the region and chosen to do so because they had no prospects in England.
Published in 1956, "And the Rain my Drink" was written well before the conflict ended. Perhaps wisely, Suyin does not predict the outcome. The fundamental weakness of the British, in her view, was that their operations were being funded by export duties on rubber. Because of the Korean War, demand for rubber was very high and very likely to fall dramatically which would have left the British without the cash to carry on. The weakness of the communists was that they had virtually no support from the Malayan peasantry.
"And the Rain my Drink" may work better as historical analysis than as literature. Its great merit is the way in which it illustrates the mechanisms through which a Western power fights an enemy based in a rural area in a third-world country (which is what Malaya was in the 1950s). It my view it was well worth the read.
Readers will need some fortitude to cope with Han Suyin's ghastly purple prose which is particularly obtrusive in the first third of the book. However, as she advances her powers of observation and satire become more prominent. "And the Rain my Drink" has the great merit of improving as the reader gets deeper into it.
Han Suyin makes a number of important points for the reader interested in the history of the events. First she makes it clear that the Communist insurgents were overwhelmingly Chinese. They had learned how to fight a guerrilla war under the Japanese occupation. When the WWII ended they discovered that the British had accorded virtually all positions of privilege in the new society to the Malays. Consequently, they returned to the jungle to resume their fight for self-determination. They relied on friendly villagers for food and funded themselves through the extortion of wealthy Chinese landowners and merchants.
The British responded by interning the villagers who were helping the communists. Han Suyin provides marvellous accounts of the bungling involving in the round-ups and of the life in the camps. The best part of her novel is her descriptions of how the British recruited informants and extracted information from them. Han Suyin presents a highly negative picture of the informants who betrayed their comrades for cash and other benefits. She also noted that once they ran out of real information they would invent things to keep the payments coming.
Han Suyin clearly disliked the Malays whose prime objective was to exclude the Chinese from political power, government employment and the liberal professions. While loudly proclaiming themselves to be "anti-colonial", they were anxious that the British maintain a presence in the "independent" Malayan federation in order to suppress the communist Chinese insurrection.
Han Suyin portrayed the British administrators, military officers and policemen and judges serving in Malaya as being corrupt and dimwitted. Most had held positions elsewhere in the British Empire prior to coming to the region and chosen to do so because they had no prospects in England.
Published in 1956, "And the Rain my Drink" was written well before the conflict ended. Perhaps wisely, Suyin does not predict the outcome. The fundamental weakness of the British, in her view, was that their operations were being funded by export duties on rubber. Because of the Korean War, demand for rubber was very high and very likely to fall dramatically which would have left the British without the cash to carry on. The weakness of the communists was that they had virtually no support from the Malayan peasantry.
"And the Rain my Drink" may work better as historical analysis than as literature. Its great merit is the way in which it illustrates the mechanisms through which a Western power fights an enemy based in a rural area in a third-world country (which is what Malaya was in the 1950s). It my view it was well worth the read.
May 12, 2026
‘Tailors, like waiters, hear everything—A heavy smell of Tiger Balm pervaded the air. It held spirits of earth, the stolid ship lurching through—green-oil sea, its black and orange prow sprouting phosphorescent arches on the night waters of the southern ocean.’
Before reading Han Suyin, I didn't understand why I didn't like Eileen Chang. Now that I've read Han Suyin, I know why. I think Han Suyin might actually be one of my favourite writers ever. Only read one book of hers though, so that's not saying much I reckon. I think this write-up is going to be mostly ‘vibes’. But in any case, I still think this is one of the best books I’ve read in a while, and it led me to wonder/think about what it was 'living' through (what seems like) so many different 'lives' was like for her? I should probably start with sharing some lines from the ‘Foreword’ by Kirpal Singh just because.
‘All over the world we witness—people willing to give their all—to give hope for a better world for their children and their children’s children. Han Suyin spares no—love stories of yearning young men and women—We are confronted by all these issues as we read the book. How do we respond? How do we react? How do we read and interpret them?’
‘She writes in the kind of manner that entices and then seduces to complete the bond between writer and reader—a bond that most readers carry through life—readers of her books speak about how reading her books made them rethink their own lives. ‘And The Rain My Drink’ stands out as a towering testimony of a period lived through and experienced by the writer herself—it unravels the truths behind the realities of what went on during this time of confused values and even more confused judgments.’
‘It is important that young people—read this book and process the many perspectives it offers, for Han Suyin writes not so much for the people who made a mess—but for those common human beings who lost so much even though they gave so much.’
Admittedly, her prose/writing is flowery as fuck, but not without substance (even phrasing it this way is such an understatement). And because of that—it’s poetry (undoubtedly), I refuse to think/say otherwise. And I refuse to fight about that because obviously there are far more important matters in the world right now to react to, and work on. So much gardening to do, no? I’ve been putting Hozier’s ‘Unreal Unearth’ album on repeat, and ‘Eat Your Young’ is such a banger—is it about potatoes? I’m quite obsessed with potatoes. Was it Pedro Pascal who once said ‘Daddy is state of mind’? I don’t know why, but that also reminds me of a line about how the role and responsibility of a ‘man’ is to plant trees for the kids/little ones with no desire of ‘eating the fruits’ himself (and if a man fails to do that, then that man is just repulsive, putrid scum of the earth, no? Something like that, no?). For the life of me I can’t remember where that is from. But James Baldwin did say, ‘The children are always ours, every single one of them, all over the globe’. I don’t know if that is relevant, but anyway, some more 'And The Rain My Drink' excerpts below/ahead.
‘From ward to ward, up and down the stone stairs, the sinusoid of sound pursues me. Words, words, words—in all the dialects and languages—The word Malay means Javanese, Sumatrans, Indonesians, people from Minangkabau and many another East Indies island—Chinese include half a dozen subgroups from the southern provinces of China, by feature and emotion Chinese, but divided by dialect into Teochews, Hokkiens, Hakkas, Cantonese, Hainanese, and smaller groups. Indians include Tamils, Punjabis, Sikhs, Pathans, Bengalis, and many others. In each ward the nurses must act as translators as well as nurses.’
‘There is knowledge that is not knowledge, not in words and yet inhabits the mind, informs it with facts and events. And although no one told the story, yet this is what he grew to know, without once acknowledging that he knew. Our main task will be to look after—people, many of them Hakkas. It is important for us—that the women outside should pass food to the friends of their husbands, their husbands, brothers, and sons. Thus we shall always have enough to eat.’
‘As you know, the Hakkas form a sub-group of their own—I found that seven out of ten people here were Hakkas—I was a priest for four years in a Hakka district in South China. With cups of excellent coffee, Father Destier poured out his bitterness and his biography. Earnest or humorous, passionate or soberly reflective, truculent or humbly contrite, his moods of fervent unreason or cold sanity were altogether self-forgetful.’
‘Ah Pak was of a race whose poetry was an explanation of existence, of living. Whenever anyone brought into the jungle a newspaper, Ah Pak would turn to page eight, which carried from top to bottom the blank verse, the sonnets, the short stories written by the Chinese children of Malaya, the best of the lot every day.’
‘There is the sisterhood of amahs, those of the long black braids of hair pulling their bony heads back, always dressed in white tops and black silk trousers, neutral as worker-bees; there is the confederacy of women carriers, those who build roads and carry bricks and lumber—binding by affection, which is as strong as ties of blood, and often stronger.’
In a strange way, Han Suyin reminded me of Gary Stevenson even though they are very ‘different’ in so, so many ways. But I was thinking about what ‘book’ I would recommend to someone from (for instance) Sichuan, Shandong, or Guangdong (and anywhere else, really) if they asked me what book I’d recommend to them if I had to recommend to them a book from/feels most 'London' (to me). And much to my surprise, this one came to mind. I ‘listened’ and read his book, ‘The Trading Game’ (which I thought was brilliant (to 'say' simply), but personally, I do not like the title though) a while back. I am not saying I find his personal experiences 'relatable', but (how shall I say this as simply/briefly as possible?)—East London, football, and (for a lack of better words) the vibes—and that’s that. Excerpts from his book, below.
‘Every trader has a pain threshold—You could have the best trade in the world, but if you hit your pain threshold, it doesn’t matter—Every time you put a trade on, you ask: What is the worst possible thing that can happen to this trade in between now and me being right? Is that realistic? Am I lying to myself? Could it go a lot more? Take your worst-case scenario, and double it. Me, I know what I’m like. When a trade kicks my arse, I’m gonna do more. If it kicks my arse more I will do more again. I don’t know why I’m like that. Maybe because fuck you that’s why. All I know is if a trade’s gonna fuck me then I’m gonna fuck the trade back and I’ll keep fucking it until I win. But if I’m gonna do that, then—sure as hell I had better be right in the end.’
‘There was no reason for me to go to Singapore. But Chuck had asked me one time where in the world I’d like to go, and I had just said to him 'Singapore', without really knowing where it was. It was a bit like when I told my nan I liked Lion bars, and then she got me them for Christmas every year till she died. Singapore was beautiful. And when Chuck called about my bonus on the phone in my hotel room, I was sitting on a bed, high, high up in the sky. I looked out over the marina. The sun was so bright it was blinding, and it reflected off of everything. The water, the skyscrapers, the gardens, the little lion that shoots water from its mouth. It wasn’t my sun, it was another man’s sun. I wondered what all of it meant. OK, I thought, time to go home then. Time to be the best trader in the world.’
‘With me, it was economics. We argued about economics constantly. Titzy graduated from Bocconi. That’s basically just LSE for Italians. So why did I want this scruffy, silver-suited Italian who went around overpaying for his coffee? The truth is, I liked arguing with the guy. I’ve got Italians in my family, I’ve always liked winding them up. What can I say, it’s a weakness of mine. I liked the way he’d get mad about the nature of the causes of inflation, or storm off in the middle of a football game, shouting (probably correctly, in fairness) that we weren’t fit to polish his boots. But those weren’t the main reasons that I wanted Titzy.’
‘I wanted Titzy—he was the voice of the street. I’m not talking about the back streets of Naples here. Titzy was more of a Lake Como type. I’m talking about Wall Street. Titzy always thought that the market was right. Always. Just like he always thought the textbooks were right. I think the guy had some sort of deeply laid innate desire to believe in a kind of higher wisdom. To trust that the guys upstairs had it under control. Bless him, his dad must have been a nice guy. That was exactly what I wanted. I wanted a kid who read the Financial Times in the morning and then spent the whole day on the phone to his business school mates. Let me explain to you why.’
‘We hedged a fucking lot of risks, often risks we didn’t have. I was about to take the hedge of my life. See what I had realised, at that moment, was exactly, precisely why we were all wrong. We had been diagnosing a terminal cancer as a series of seasonal colds. We thought the—system was broken—but would recover. The problem would not solve itself. In fact, it would accelerate, it would get worse. The reason economists didn’t realise this is because almost no economists look in their models at how wealth is distributed—For them, it’s nothing more than an afterthought. Moralist window dressing. Finally, my degree was useful for something after all. It showed me exactly how everyone was wrong. If I was right, this was a big deal—They were losing their homes.’
‘What I couldn’t get out of my head was this sense of similarity. It was the same—it was the world. It wasn’t temporary, it was terminal—It was cancer. And I knew what that meant.’
‘I would like to tell you it’s because I was crazy—I was brave—I was creative and wild—I stepped outside the artificial constraints that bound me, and decided to go totally mad—But it’s like that, isn’t it? Perhaps if that Russian linesman, who wasn’t even really Russian, didn’t give that goal that day, in 1966, then England would never win the World Cup.’
‘How would you feel if an earthquake happened and twenty thousand people died and you made eleven million dollars? That’s five hundred and fifty dollars per person.’
To finish off the Gary Stevenson bit of ‘thought’/bit of curiosity, I wonder what he would have written about if he grew up in (for instance) Dongguan (or perhaps Shantou?), and ended up in Shanghai for (/in pursuit of) work? I would really, fucking love to read that book. Maybe my desire/interest in recommending Gary Stevenson’s book is a little ‘selfish’. Maybe what I really am interested in is someone from all the above/previously mentioned places recommending me a ‘book’ in return. In particular a ‘book’ written by someone from their country/place that reminds them of Gary Stevenson’s book? And/but now, more excerpts of Han Suyin's 'And The Rain My Drink' (below).
‘Love was the answer—and then, confusedly, but Love is such a nauseating word in this heat.’
‘What would be Pearl’s future staying here? Frustration, rancour, bitterness—at last surrender, marriage to a—businessman, a hectic busy-bright money machine shaped as a man, intent on success? Let her go. Let her go, as Mabel would go to a nunnery, let her go. It had to be China. A practical mystic imprisoned in business concerns, she was of those Asians who dream of cherished solitude, yet are plunged by the turmoil of Asia into hectic action and paltry concern. ‘Perhaps I have no soul,’ she repeated to herself. But Pearl was of another century in this raging acceleration of crescendo—where events shaped the future before the present was yet wholly perceived.’
‘Fate dispensed her ends and her beginnings. With torches of woven coconut strands flaring bright fists of golden fire the fishermen now scoured the black mirror of the sea. On the ceiling and the walls the pink and green ‘chikchaks’, familiar lizards, ran their nightly rampage. The small things of the night, slight and eternal: the oscillating recitatives of cicadas—Keeping time like a metronome apportioning the hours, a drip felt, not heard, the heaving sap in millions of trees dispensed sumptuous latex, the white gold, the rubber for which perhaps all this was happening, for which men fought and died, betrayed or kept faith: the harsh tree-wealth, the curse, the boon of Malaya—dripping monotonous as prayer: Give us this day our daily latex.’
‘And this—perfecting the opposed into a circumferential geometry of life, for which chaos is but a word, the name of an order not yet born; where madness, greed, and violence sought to lay their hot waste upon all, where greed, madness, and violence were counted in the drops of the latex; this was peace, in the clemency of night to blend the confusion of the fissured land into harmony, smooth as horizon circle, gathered as latex in a cup, complete and flat as death.’
Benjamín Labatut and Clarice Lispector are among some of my favourite writers, if not my favourite(s) of all-time, until death and beyond that if there is more to death than death. What do they associate 'writers' with? A 'cockroach', essentially (both expressed this in their own different ways, but same sentiment/core (or at least I think so)). Those omniscient little fucks (complimentary). Unlike, for instance, Eileen Chang. Whatever it is that she writes about with regards to ‘love’ and otherwise, I don’t want (and I don’t wish it upon anyone I hold dear either). There must be more to ‘romantic love’ than just ‘romantic love’, no? Otherwise why even? There’s already Colleen Hoover, no (and one Hoover is more than enough for the world, no?)? Also I ‘hate’ the comparison of Chang to Jane Austen (incredibly offensive, that; Austen is brilliantly satirical, and if you don’t ‘get’ her, that’s your problem not hers). And with that thought in mind, maybe there is more to death than just death(?). Something—(even if) ambiguously, transcendental? I don’t know. Below, excerpts from an article/essay on Han Suyin by the writer, Aamer Hussein.
‘‘Your friend Suyin just died.’ I received the text on 2 November, 2012—I’d be speaking, and reading, at a gathering of Urdu writers, in my mother tongue that language of mine Suyin loved without understanding it, that she’d tried to reach through translations of its poetry. The first time we met, she asked me to listen to its music in my inner ear before I sat down to write. Yes, trapped between tongues like her, I did what she couldn’t. I reclaimed another self in my forgotten language.
She rarely stayed long in one place. But she carried China around wherever she went—China kept calling her back. Two years before I’d been to India, and found a connection with its air and water that had never broken, or at least that’s how it felt when I came back. But after we met, I too became more nomadic. First in my head and then my feet followed. I finally reached Pakistan a decade after that first encounter. I told a journalist there: ‘I’m comfortably homeless in six languages and at least as many countries.’
They say that migration is like a death, and arrival otherwhere a second birth—In March 1986—I came upon a black-and-white photograph of Suyin—And there, below her image—was her statement: ‘European and Americans writers write with great beauty and perception about Asians. I write as an Asian, with all the pent-up emotions of my people. What I say will annoy many people who prefer the conventional myths brought back by writers on the orient. All I can say is that I try to tell the truth. Truth, like surgery, may hurt, but it cures.’
After years of politically-curated distance she’d managed to go back to her motherland and since then she had refused to belong to one place, one ideology or one creed. And yet, book after book, she rebuilt that motherland for herself—her voyages of return encompassed both past and present—in her writings she created not only a country but an entire continent, blurring boundaries between Cambodia, Malaya, Thailand, Nepal.
One night in Bangkok Suyin declared to someone who asked her where she lived: ‘I’m homeless.’ Gore Vidal, eminence grise of American letters, who himself lived half a world away from his root in Ravenna, turned around and called her a rude, ungrateful woman. Why? Where did she owe gratitude, in his mind?
I saw Suyin several more times on her brief visits to London. We made long distance calls—She still wrote letters but less and less frequently.
I was not someone who, to quote Suyin, ‘happened to live’ abroad and went back for my roots: I was someone who had left behind a homeland and never found anything to replace the empty patch. Wherever I was I’d always look for a part of myself in the city I’d been sent away from. As I wrote then: all my mirrors of belonging have cracked. She didn’t call on some of her last trips to London – she said she’d thought I was too busy to see her.
As the millennium descended, she was slowly leaving the world behind. No writing, no letters, no travels. ‘I want to die with not a breath unshed. With empty sleeves. I’ve given away almost everything I owned.’ When I spoke to her – was it 2000? Or 2002? She didn’t call again. I often thought of her and told myself I’d ring. Somehow, I never did.’ — Aamer Hussein, ‘Han Suyin: A Friendship’
Concluding this with a far lighter (possibly, deeply unserious?) note, I think ‘Central Cee’ has Hakka roots, birds of a feather or whatever (holding on to that thought until proven wrong)?
April 24, 2023
Nobody writes like this anymore. In a relatively thin book, Han Su Yin weaves together a mosaic tale (that is fictitiously realistic) of tension, doubts, mischief, mistrust, and misery of the early periods of the Malayan Emergency. In detailed, delightful, and at times discombobulating prose, Han brought life to the inner lives of a long list of characters, organised a disorganised social, political and cultural landscape, and took great pains to not tell the story of war from the war room. Instead, as if a spirit, she took possession of each character at will, and it is the will, be it to survive, or to thrive, to win a war, or to stem a war, that gets the best treatment of Han's careful yet florid writing. Agency, agenda, and ambiguity of characters caught between fire and water; inner demons and external contingencies; personal feelings and ideological/professional gravity, were all conferred equal sculpting even if the fates of many characters were shaped and sealed by their lack of equality (vis-a-vis the others).
And The Rain My Drink thrives not because of the author's command of the language (which she clearly does, what else can't Han name anyway?) but her command of a situation that defies command. And it is through such command (and empathy) she did justice to three things in a period where justice is scant and selective. First, the difficulty in finding justice itself in a period of mismatched aspirations and segregated lives (and inner lives). Second, the untold perspectives of conflicted beings in a scenario of conflict. And third, to depict Malaya's famed multiculturalism truthfully, not highlighting diversity in an encyclopedic gaze (as we are prone to these days) but capture its dysfunctional second-guessing and functional dissonance, and remind us, the beauty of Malaya (or Malaysia) is reminiscent the beauty of the tropics: dense, complex, mysterious, organic, volatile and at its core, polyphonous.
And The Rain My Drink thrives not because of the author's command of the language (which she clearly does, what else can't Han name anyway?) but her command of a situation that defies command. And it is through such command (and empathy) she did justice to three things in a period where justice is scant and selective. First, the difficulty in finding justice itself in a period of mismatched aspirations and segregated lives (and inner lives). Second, the untold perspectives of conflicted beings in a scenario of conflict. And third, to depict Malaya's famed multiculturalism truthfully, not highlighting diversity in an encyclopedic gaze (as we are prone to these days) but capture its dysfunctional second-guessing and functional dissonance, and remind us, the beauty of Malaya (or Malaysia) is reminiscent the beauty of the tropics: dense, complex, mysterious, organic, volatile and at its core, polyphonous.
October 17, 2011
I have to take exception to the synopsis, which is way off. Perhaps it was written by someone who was even more confused by the novel's complete lack of structure? For the record: And The Rain My Drink, set in southeastern Malaysia (then Malaya) and Singapore during the Emergency, before independence, tells the story of the British Authority's feckless campaign against the Communists, and the cast of Malays, bourgeois Chinese, rubber tappers (again Chinese), and British officers who are swept into the chaos.
The novel is promising as a historical romance in the epic mode, with an undercooked polemic shoehorned into the middle of it. As a whole, it's something of a mess. Characters are introduced and then suddenly disappear, as the narrative shifts to a different point of view; terrible events happen without any resolution; pages are given over to clunky dialog illustrating the British Authority's incompetence (which I'm not disputing, by the way; it just seems like there are more convincing ways to portray it). To top it all off is Han's florid prose, which strangles the pace of the novel like the Malayan jungle that dominates the imagery of the novel. Here's a sample: "Although transfigured by his vision swooping upon her...knowing herself no longer a tasteless formless lump, mechanical body,...but Woman, created from the effluvia of man's desire, become through the need of a man eternal mystery, mystic lotus, Beatitude, Beauty out of the sea, breast and belly and sex, desire's blossom which is Beauty..." And on like that for the rest of the paragraph.
It's a shame, because the subject is a fascinating one that has repercussions in today's world, not just in Southeast Asia. But I can't recommend anyone slog through this muddle; it's as cruel as making them live in huts in the swamp.
The novel is promising as a historical romance in the epic mode, with an undercooked polemic shoehorned into the middle of it. As a whole, it's something of a mess. Characters are introduced and then suddenly disappear, as the narrative shifts to a different point of view; terrible events happen without any resolution; pages are given over to clunky dialog illustrating the British Authority's incompetence (which I'm not disputing, by the way; it just seems like there are more convincing ways to portray it). To top it all off is Han's florid prose, which strangles the pace of the novel like the Malayan jungle that dominates the imagery of the novel. Here's a sample: "Although transfigured by his vision swooping upon her...knowing herself no longer a tasteless formless lump, mechanical body,...but Woman, created from the effluvia of man's desire, become through the need of a man eternal mystery, mystic lotus, Beatitude, Beauty out of the sea, breast and belly and sex, desire's blossom which is Beauty..." And on like that for the rest of the paragraph.
It's a shame, because the subject is a fascinating one that has repercussions in today's world, not just in Southeast Asia. But I can't recommend anyone slog through this muddle; it's as cruel as making them live in huts in the swamp.
August 9, 2018
This is an important work of Malaysian literature.
The book was written in 1952-53. Han Suyin was living in Johor Bahru and married to the special branch officer Leon Comber involved in the Emergency, so she was writing about what was happening around her in real time. It is said that many of the characters are based on real people too thinly disguised. Sen, for example, is probably based on William Kuok of the locally famous Kuok family, brother of Robert Kuok, one of the richest Malaysians today (She didn't even bother to change the family name). He became the propaganda chief for the communists and was ambushed and shot by Gurkhas in 1953. It seems both Comber and Han resigned from their positions in the colonial service following the publication of the book arising from its less than favourable depiction of the Malayan Emergency.
It is an important work because it is one of the only books in English from those turbulent times written by an outsider which tells the story of the Emergency reflecting the various perspectives of the Malayan Chinese, particularly those who found themselves caught up in the undeclared war.
What strikes me is just how little things have changed. It brings into focus the insidious role of British colonial policy in framing and shaping Malaysian politics right to the present day. The 'new villages', for example, that still dot the peninsula likely intensified racial segregation in the process of de-colonisation. Growing up in an independent Malaysia, one gets used to talk of supposed racial tensions and conflict, as if Malays and Chinese are simply congenitally incapable of living together without one group trying to subjugate the other. There doesn't seem to be much reflection on the roots of these issues in the colonial period and British policies formulated to service British ends. For example, Han lets the tycoon Quo Boon speak of the exclusion felt by the Chinese-educated which drove them to join the communists or to look to China, as they had little prospect of fulfilling their ambitions in the colonial system, being excluded from government jobs and professions reserved first for the English expatriates and then the English-speaking. While the government has switched to operate in the Malay language 50 years ago, the logic of the system of governance has not been radically rearranged. Recognition of the Chinese school certificates is still a current issue while the Chinese education system still seems to exist in some sort of purgatory. The novel also captures the corruption as well as the disillusionment in the materialistic pursuits which were left open to the Chinese of that era, themes that still resonate today.
Her ornate style of writing is not to everyone’s taste. It rewards the reader who makes the effort to reconstruct in his or her mind the scenes she describes. The narrative is artfully structured to build up to the sense of disenchantment with the reveal at the end.
It is a remarkably rich work. For a good scholarly review, see: Epistemological Checkpoint: The Novelization of the Malayan Emergency in Han Suyin’s ...And the Rain My Drink
The book was written in 1952-53. Han Suyin was living in Johor Bahru and married to the special branch officer Leon Comber involved in the Emergency, so she was writing about what was happening around her in real time. It is said that many of the characters are based on real people too thinly disguised. Sen, for example, is probably based on William Kuok of the locally famous Kuok family, brother of Robert Kuok, one of the richest Malaysians today (She didn't even bother to change the family name). He became the propaganda chief for the communists and was ambushed and shot by Gurkhas in 1953. It seems both Comber and Han resigned from their positions in the colonial service following the publication of the book arising from its less than favourable depiction of the Malayan Emergency.
It is an important work because it is one of the only books in English from those turbulent times written by an outsider which tells the story of the Emergency reflecting the various perspectives of the Malayan Chinese, particularly those who found themselves caught up in the undeclared war.
What strikes me is just how little things have changed. It brings into focus the insidious role of British colonial policy in framing and shaping Malaysian politics right to the present day. The 'new villages', for example, that still dot the peninsula likely intensified racial segregation in the process of de-colonisation. Growing up in an independent Malaysia, one gets used to talk of supposed racial tensions and conflict, as if Malays and Chinese are simply congenitally incapable of living together without one group trying to subjugate the other. There doesn't seem to be much reflection on the roots of these issues in the colonial period and British policies formulated to service British ends. For example, Han lets the tycoon Quo Boon speak of the exclusion felt by the Chinese-educated which drove them to join the communists or to look to China, as they had little prospect of fulfilling their ambitions in the colonial system, being excluded from government jobs and professions reserved first for the English expatriates and then the English-speaking. While the government has switched to operate in the Malay language 50 years ago, the logic of the system of governance has not been radically rearranged. Recognition of the Chinese school certificates is still a current issue while the Chinese education system still seems to exist in some sort of purgatory. The novel also captures the corruption as well as the disillusionment in the materialistic pursuits which were left open to the Chinese of that era, themes that still resonate today.
Her ornate style of writing is not to everyone’s taste. It rewards the reader who makes the effort to reconstruct in his or her mind the scenes she describes. The narrative is artfully structured to build up to the sense of disenchantment with the reveal at the end.
It is a remarkably rich work. For a good scholarly review, see: Epistemological Checkpoint: The Novelization of the Malayan Emergency in Han Suyin’s ...And the Rain My Drink
August 27, 2015
The occasional brilliant writing that immerses the reader in the period of communist insurgency in Malaya are sadly too few and swamped by the endless flowery prose of many chapters that attempt to convey mood but end up totally going over my head. The strange juxtaposition between matter of fact stream of consciousness narrative and long poetic verse is jarring to say the least, breaking the momentum of what little plot there is to begin with. The book seems more like a collection of thoughts and view points of various loosely connected characters as they go about their lives amid the Emergency rumbling along in the background. The ending is abrupt, but not unwelcome I must say, given the convoluted writing.
January 21, 2020
I would like to mention that the description given on goodreads for this book is wildly inaccurate. I am genuinely surprised to see such mixed reviews for '... And The Rain My Drink', as in my eyes it is a work of utmost brilliance. I feel as though it is rare to come across an author with the depth of understanding, uniqueness of perspective and fullness of expression that Han Suyin has to offer. She presents vivid & awakened imagery, explores intricate interpersonal(/cultural) subtleties and captures many small essences of life; giving such wholeness to her stories. I thought this was a truly fascinating read.
January 27, 2025
lots of interrelated themes goin on here:
colonial incompetence, aristocratic navigation of a soon to be independent malaya, racial dynamics and its being made worse by the british response to the malayan emergency (particularly amongst the poor, and not at all amongst the rich), the horrors of life in the new villages, the humanity of the communist guerilla fighters, etc etc.
so funny to see the social organisation depicted in and the rain my drink still very much present in contemporary malaysia, a systemic racial segregation of roles and an unspoken but deeply entrenched convention of patronage.
a lot of the critique of 1950s malaya holds true in contemporary malaysia, which made this a pretty fun read.
plot can be difficult to follow because the prose was purple as FUCK!!!!! kinda liked it but also got frustrating to read, and had some sentences which were way out of whack. here's one: "And Pang's agile fat feminine buttocks in their tight black pants ran down the slope." that was literally just tossed in there no context, and no mention of this man's ass was ever mentioned again?
colonial incompetence, aristocratic navigation of a soon to be independent malaya, racial dynamics and its being made worse by the british response to the malayan emergency (particularly amongst the poor, and not at all amongst the rich), the horrors of life in the new villages, the humanity of the communist guerilla fighters, etc etc.
so funny to see the social organisation depicted in and the rain my drink still very much present in contemporary malaysia, a systemic racial segregation of roles and an unspoken but deeply entrenched convention of patronage.
a lot of the critique of 1950s malaya holds true in contemporary malaysia, which made this a pretty fun read.
plot can be difficult to follow because the prose was purple as FUCK!!!!! kinda liked it but also got frustrating to read, and had some sentences which were way out of whack. here's one: "And Pang's agile fat feminine buttocks in their tight black pants ran down the slope." that was literally just tossed in there no context, and no mention of this man's ass was ever mentioned again?
December 16, 2023
En attendant le temps de pouvoir décrire pleinement toutes les émotions que ce romans suscite, je ne dirais que comme un serpent vénéneux, il se roule en boucle, mais pas vraiment, et il ondoit de manière hyptotisante en présageant la mort de ses personnages, non pas dans le monde confortable et prévisible du litteraire, mais dans la vraie réalité de la vie, quelque part entre le kampong et les Villes - Singapour et Kuala Lumpur, quelque part 1953 et 1964...
December 29, 2020
This was a mix bag for me. This is the second book i’ve read from Asian writers about Malaya or known as Malaysia as of now that i didn’t like. I enjoyed the writing and Han Suyin is clearly a brilliant writer. It reflected in her vivid and beautiful sentences almost in each page . You will always find the quotable sentences in lots of pages throughout the book. If you have read about “The New Village” and familiar on how government used this resettlement method to root out communism after Japanese occupation in Malaya back then, this book will enlightened you on what it’s like to be on the other side of the fence. Whether you choose to be in a ‘New Village’ or whether you escaped and rebelled and eventually joined the communist side deep in the Malayan Jungle. Whenever i saw Malay language is being used by some writers who can’t differentiate the formal and colloquial Malay, i always cringed and wished i never read that. It was never the case with her. It was always on point. Granted, it could be coming from her experience in Malaya or she’s just doing enough research to make sure it’s correct. While i enjoy reading this, you can read her deep resentment towards the Malays in the book. Hence i do get tired of the racist remarks — like red haired devils, occasionally racist jab and a sprinkle of lazy myth towards Malays in her writing. I just responded silently while reading this with “Noted, Han Suyin! Noted”. There’s biases in her book whereby she can understand why these communists ran from being detained and did what the did in the name of fighting for their rights , terrorising the public and tore out the peace in Malaya but she lacklusterly acknowledge that the white colonisers is equally to blame for dividing the country. There maybe hope and dream for the ending of this book but I already felt somewhat disconnected at the end of it. Overall, i am pretty sure some will enjoy this book but it was not for me. If anyone already read this book and wanted to share their thoughts on this, please do share it. I would love to know your opinion and review about the book.
April 15, 2010
A few years ago, I found this book in a secondhand bookstore. It was dirt cheap and I really liked the blurb on the cover. I bought it immediately. When I got home, I found out (the hard way) why it was so cheap. The book was falling apart, literally. The binding, or what was left of it, could barely hold the pages together. In the end, the book ended up in the trash. But I never forgot the book and hoped that some day, it would be reprinted.
Finally, my wish came through. You see, I really wanted to read this book because of its setting. Imagine Malaya and Singapore, during the early 50s. Imagine lush, heat soaked jungles filled with violence. Imagine death lurking behind rubber trees. Imagine the lives of rubber tappers, tin miners, bus drivers, ordinary 'citizens' who can be incarcerated behind bars at the mere whiff of being a communist collaborator. Imagine a historical novel set during a period of political turmoil and uncertainty. A tale of war, love, betrayal and how the decisions made during those years are still affecting the nations of Malaysia and Singapore, till this day. That is what this book is all about. A glimpse of the way it once was, in a country filled with contradictions. And yet filled with beauty and abundance. And hope.
Finally, my wish came through. You see, I really wanted to read this book because of its setting. Imagine Malaya and Singapore, during the early 50s. Imagine lush, heat soaked jungles filled with violence. Imagine death lurking behind rubber trees. Imagine the lives of rubber tappers, tin miners, bus drivers, ordinary 'citizens' who can be incarcerated behind bars at the mere whiff of being a communist collaborator. Imagine a historical novel set during a period of political turmoil and uncertainty. A tale of war, love, betrayal and how the decisions made during those years are still affecting the nations of Malaysia and Singapore, till this day. That is what this book is all about. A glimpse of the way it once was, in a country filled with contradictions. And yet filled with beauty and abundance. And hope.
December 29, 2020
...and the Rain my Drink is Han Suyin's 1956 novel set during the Malayan Emergency (i.e., the Malaysian fight for independence from British rule following the centuries of colonialism). The title derives from an old Chinese ballad that the fighters sang, "I will go to the forest for justice. The wind for my garment I wear. ... and the rain my drink."
I'll dispense with the negatives first: there are simply so many characters here, and many of them with two or more names, that I sometimes found it difficult to keep up with who was who (as well as various plot points involving different characters).
In the plus column, the book is beautifully written, and provides an excellent history and context for those who wish to know more of the this time and place. Reading through those lenses, rather than reading this as a typical novel, allowed me to appreciate it ... and the Rain my Drink even when I was a bit lost in the weeds of the story itself.
Suyin's sympathies clearly lie with the jungle fighters, and how could it be otherwise when "there was no door to the future for them, save through the green mouth of the jungle." (Much later in the book, the other side of the coin is articulated clear as day: " All over South East Asia there were white men pointing out, loud and long, how bad freedom was for anyone but themselves.") For that reason alone this is a great read for anyone who wants to understand more of Southeast Asia, particularly without the distortion of European perspective.
This particular book may be fiction, but the events that underpin each page are grounded in the very real history of Malaya. Anyone seeking to understand the tensions between Malays and Chinese within Malaysia (whom Suyin describes as wielding wealth, but not power, a description which is still apt in parts of the region), where even today each ethnicity's roles and functions in society are codified into law, would do well to read this book, which provides historic background with fictional drama. (Likewise, although it was published before Singapore and Malaysia had separated, the coming chasm is well foreshadowed.)
And yet, while Suyin sympathizes with the fighters, she also recognizes the hardships for the majority who were caught in the middle: "...endured, as so many things were endured in these days between two terrors, that of the Police, and that of the People Inside." Suyin doesn't only capture the tensions of the Emergency, of those between Malay and Chinese, or between those who would fight and those who prefer to exist quietly. She also captures Malaysia - and all of Southeast Asia - in the unrelenting heat and the frequently demoralizing rains. British officers are frequently described as having "whiteskin fury," which explodes most commonly in the heat of the day, not only in Malaya, but in all the places of the Empire where "January is as July will ever be." Hot. Wet. Hotter.
Likewise, Suyin captures a key difference between Europe and Asia, one which holds as much today as it did 65 years ago when she first penned it, and that is the notional of Europe as "staid, stay-behind and unimaginative behind the surging exaltation of Asia." (That, right there, is why 100 times out of 100 I will bet on Asia over Europe, but I digress.)
There is also quiet wisdom between these pages, the idea, for example, that "there is knowledge that is not knowledge, not in words and yet inhabits the mind, informs it with facts and events." At the time Suyin wrote ...and the Rain my Drink, Malay's future was still very much in flux and Suyin is grappling not only with the British but with questions of the changing world more broadly. Through the voice of her characters, she questions the price extracted by "that other jungle, the ravenous, stupid, loud brash jungle of money-making" and how the price life in that jungle compares to the damage inflicted on the soul by life in the literal jungle. The answers are as elusive as the People Inside.
A last piece of advice: "Remember....there is no such thing as defeat. There is only change of tactics."
I'll dispense with the negatives first: there are simply so many characters here, and many of them with two or more names, that I sometimes found it difficult to keep up with who was who (as well as various plot points involving different characters).
In the plus column, the book is beautifully written, and provides an excellent history and context for those who wish to know more of the this time and place. Reading through those lenses, rather than reading this as a typical novel, allowed me to appreciate it ... and the Rain my Drink even when I was a bit lost in the weeds of the story itself.
Suyin's sympathies clearly lie with the jungle fighters, and how could it be otherwise when "there was no door to the future for them, save through the green mouth of the jungle." (Much later in the book, the other side of the coin is articulated clear as day: " All over South East Asia there were white men pointing out, loud and long, how bad freedom was for anyone but themselves.") For that reason alone this is a great read for anyone who wants to understand more of Southeast Asia, particularly without the distortion of European perspective.
This particular book may be fiction, but the events that underpin each page are grounded in the very real history of Malaya. Anyone seeking to understand the tensions between Malays and Chinese within Malaysia (whom Suyin describes as wielding wealth, but not power, a description which is still apt in parts of the region), where even today each ethnicity's roles and functions in society are codified into law, would do well to read this book, which provides historic background with fictional drama. (Likewise, although it was published before Singapore and Malaysia had separated, the coming chasm is well foreshadowed.)
And yet, while Suyin sympathizes with the fighters, she also recognizes the hardships for the majority who were caught in the middle: "...endured, as so many things were endured in these days between two terrors, that of the Police, and that of the People Inside." Suyin doesn't only capture the tensions of the Emergency, of those between Malay and Chinese, or between those who would fight and those who prefer to exist quietly. She also captures Malaysia - and all of Southeast Asia - in the unrelenting heat and the frequently demoralizing rains. British officers are frequently described as having "whiteskin fury," which explodes most commonly in the heat of the day, not only in Malaya, but in all the places of the Empire where "January is as July will ever be." Hot. Wet. Hotter.
Likewise, Suyin captures a key difference between Europe and Asia, one which holds as much today as it did 65 years ago when she first penned it, and that is the notional of Europe as "staid, stay-behind and unimaginative behind the surging exaltation of Asia." (That, right there, is why 100 times out of 100 I will bet on Asia over Europe, but I digress.)
There is also quiet wisdom between these pages, the idea, for example, that "there is knowledge that is not knowledge, not in words and yet inhabits the mind, informs it with facts and events." At the time Suyin wrote ...and the Rain my Drink, Malay's future was still very much in flux and Suyin is grappling not only with the British but with questions of the changing world more broadly. Through the voice of her characters, she questions the price extracted by "that other jungle, the ravenous, stupid, loud brash jungle of money-making" and how the price life in that jungle compares to the damage inflicted on the soul by life in the literal jungle. The answers are as elusive as the People Inside.
A last piece of advice: "Remember....there is no such thing as defeat. There is only change of tactics."
November 16, 2020
A good story but is written in very flowery prose, too much so for my liking.
After WWII Britain liberated (or re-colonized) Malay from the Japanese. In the southern portion of Malay, across the straits from Singapore are the jungles where the communists are hiding and fighting their jungle war. It is also the location of rubber latex plantations owned by the English and Chinese using the Malays as workers. The rubber latex is king in the economics of the country very much like oil is the king of economies today. The narrator is Suyin who is a doctor in this area of Malay. She is so much like the author that this could almost be considered autobiographical.
During the early 1950´s the Emergency is part of life in Malay which is the guerrilla warfare between the communists in the jungle and the English. Caught in the middle are the Malays who are coerced to supply food and supplies to the jungle fighters. The narrator Suyin, as a doctor, sees the affects of the Emergency on the different parts of the Malayan society. The Chinese are either the communists or the businessmen who don't want independence because it will negatively affect their business standing. Many Chinese, knowing there is no future for them in Malay, repatriate to China even though they may never have lived there. Some are forced to repatriate, others volunteer.
The rubber tappers are primarily Chinese. If they are discovered to assist the guerrillas in any way, they are forced to live in a detention camp without any trial. Others are forced to live in a resettlement camp, later called New Villages These overcrowded camps are surrounded by wire fencing to keep the tenants inside. The British Resettlement Officer in charge of the Todak New Village was found murdered. Some of the terrorists, or guerrilla fighters, surrender or are captured. Of these, some become informants. Ah Mei who lived in the Suyin´s household was one of these informants. She would leave for a few days to work with the police to uncover other terrorists and then return to Suyin´s household. In fact, it turns out that Ah Mei´s visiting cousin is really a terrorist.
Good story about the Malay Emergency most of which I knew nothing prior to reading this novel.
After WWII Britain liberated (or re-colonized) Malay from the Japanese. In the southern portion of Malay, across the straits from Singapore are the jungles where the communists are hiding and fighting their jungle war. It is also the location of rubber latex plantations owned by the English and Chinese using the Malays as workers. The rubber latex is king in the economics of the country very much like oil is the king of economies today. The narrator is Suyin who is a doctor in this area of Malay. She is so much like the author that this could almost be considered autobiographical.
During the early 1950´s the Emergency is part of life in Malay which is the guerrilla warfare between the communists in the jungle and the English. Caught in the middle are the Malays who are coerced to supply food and supplies to the jungle fighters. The narrator Suyin, as a doctor, sees the affects of the Emergency on the different parts of the Malayan society. The Chinese are either the communists or the businessmen who don't want independence because it will negatively affect their business standing. Many Chinese, knowing there is no future for them in Malay, repatriate to China even though they may never have lived there. Some are forced to repatriate, others volunteer.
The rubber tappers are primarily Chinese. If they are discovered to assist the guerrillas in any way, they are forced to live in a detention camp without any trial. Others are forced to live in a resettlement camp, later called New Villages These overcrowded camps are surrounded by wire fencing to keep the tenants inside. The British Resettlement Officer in charge of the Todak New Village was found murdered. Some of the terrorists, or guerrilla fighters, surrender or are captured. Of these, some become informants. Ah Mei who lived in the Suyin´s household was one of these informants. She would leave for a few days to work with the police to uncover other terrorists and then return to Suyin´s household. In fact, it turns out that Ah Mei´s visiting cousin is really a terrorist.
Good story about the Malay Emergency most of which I knew nothing prior to reading this novel.
January 31, 2026
Quite an unusual topic and format for a novel. Han Suyin writes what seems to be a semi-autobiographical account of the Malaysian emergency of the early 1950s, following World War Two. Singapore has been established as a city state, while Malaysia (Malaya as it was then) is managed by the British, who helped to drive out the Japanese occupiers, and are simultaneously treated as both unwelcome guests and trusted overlords.
This book focusses on the complex relationship between the Chinese community in Malaysia and the British, with a focus on the police, who have a role in trying to contain terrorist cells of the Chinese communists in the jungle, as well as managing determent camps.
The book follows a wide range of characters: rubber tappers, terrorists, police officers, a doctor (presumably the author), British officials, detainees, businessmen. Their stories are intertwined as we see the police trying to unravel a mystery.
For a book which was written in the 1950s, it is still relevant today. There are some fascinating ruminations (usually when policeman Luke Davis is present) on the nature of colonialism and shifting loyalities. At a time of change in Malaysia, there is discussion about how good the British colonials are:
And that is also the excuse our colonialism invokes for staying here. We have seen the writing on the wall and we are ready to let go, even if only slowly... but our credentials before God for hanging on are only this excuse, that if we go, something worse may happen, another tyranny, worse than ours.
It doesn't follow a clear narrative structure, instead focussing on painting a picture of this society. A fascinating insight into a challenging time in the history of Malaysia.
This book focusses on the complex relationship between the Chinese community in Malaysia and the British, with a focus on the police, who have a role in trying to contain terrorist cells of the Chinese communists in the jungle, as well as managing determent camps.
The book follows a wide range of characters: rubber tappers, terrorists, police officers, a doctor (presumably the author), British officials, detainees, businessmen. Their stories are intertwined as we see the police trying to unravel a mystery.
For a book which was written in the 1950s, it is still relevant today. There are some fascinating ruminations (usually when policeman Luke Davis is present) on the nature of colonialism and shifting loyalities. At a time of change in Malaysia, there is discussion about how good the British colonials are:
And that is also the excuse our colonialism invokes for staying here. We have seen the writing on the wall and we are ready to let go, even if only slowly... but our credentials before God for hanging on are only this excuse, that if we go, something worse may happen, another tyranny, worse than ours.
It doesn't follow a clear narrative structure, instead focussing on painting a picture of this society. A fascinating insight into a challenging time in the history of Malaysia.
November 30, 2024
Really stirring read, I came in not knowing much about the Malayan Emergency (except from what I learned in school about it being the “prelude” to the Vietnam War) and felt like I experienced a really solid semi-autobiographical account (despite the authors protestations otherwise). The prose I suppose is to some extent like what others say and tends to be a bit ornate (occasionally lapsing into just straight up adjective listing) but I don’t know, I liked it truth be told. The only time I felt it wear on me was in the last 3rd of the book when the story started to devolve into some sort of 1950s version of Crazy Rich Asians. I can understand it to some extent as she herself hails partially from Asian high society (and the complex around this can sometimes manifest in other ways involving occasional orientalist cliche mongering especially about Malays) and of course sampling this perspective surely adds some texture to the story. This story too occasionally tries its hand at very tired both-sides lecturing but I guess it’s done in a manner that’s as tasteful as one could do given the facts on the ground. She’s no “apologist” if that’s a concern going in, though I think it would be fair to say her heart is firmly on the side of Asian independence and self determination.
September 29, 2020
This was a mix bag for me. On the one hand, there were many moments that I really enjoyed, especially the way Han fleshes out some of the more prominent characters - particularly the cast of characters involved with the communist movement - and the way she explores the dynamics between these characters and the movement during this period of political upheaval.
But where the novel fails for me is that it really lacks structure. It is sometimes written in this omniscient third person narrator, but then it jumps back into the first person where Han herself seems to be the protagonist. Knowing that the book is semi-autobiographical and that the characters are largely based on real people that Han encountered during her time in Malaysia explained a lot because I think the novel could have benefited if she had whittled down the characters and combined some of them into Types rather than the real people.
It is also because of the confusing structure/autobiographical nature of the book that made me wince at the flippantly racist caricatures of Malay people in the novel. A little uncomfortable to read in 2020, not going to lie.
But where the novel fails for me is that it really lacks structure. It is sometimes written in this omniscient third person narrator, but then it jumps back into the first person where Han herself seems to be the protagonist. Knowing that the book is semi-autobiographical and that the characters are largely based on real people that Han encountered during her time in Malaysia explained a lot because I think the novel could have benefited if she had whittled down the characters and combined some of them into Types rather than the real people.
It is also because of the confusing structure/autobiographical nature of the book that made me wince at the flippantly racist caricatures of Malay people in the novel. A little uncomfortable to read in 2020, not going to lie.
September 15, 2025
i dont think there’s a work of fiction out there that takes place during malayan emergency published during the emergency period. i gave three stars bc the structure and plot were confusing, and some parts felt rambly, but it rlly gave u an immersive snapshot of people’s lives, priorities, customs, dilemas etc during the emergency period.
this book is still a gem to me as a malaysian bc i do believe despite the fictionality, the stories and circumstances were based off real life, and therefore, is an important account malayan’s history. this text was also rumored to be “semi-biographic”
despite han suyin’s association with the british army (her husband was leon comber at the time), i appreciated that she remained neutral in her story telling, sharing sympathetic perspectives on both sides (brits n elites vs communists n political prisoners). it’s also worth mentioning that her husband resigned his army position and then left her bc this book was regarded as “too sympathetic” to the communists. #tea
this book is still a gem to me as a malaysian bc i do believe despite the fictionality, the stories and circumstances were based off real life, and therefore, is an important account malayan’s history. this text was also rumored to be “semi-biographic”
despite han suyin’s association with the british army (her husband was leon comber at the time), i appreciated that she remained neutral in her story telling, sharing sympathetic perspectives on both sides (brits n elites vs communists n political prisoners). it’s also worth mentioning that her husband resigned his army position and then left her bc this book was regarded as “too sympathetic” to the communists. #tea
January 11, 2018
Han Sunyin's prose is florid, maybe too florid for popular current taste, but that shouldn't be an obstacle to the enjoyment of this novel. After all, one can still appreciate the beauty of a 1950s car and marvel at those chrome details. Style apart, this book is a gold mine of information about the insurgence against British rule in Malaysia and the toxic legacy of the colonial mindset that Han Sunyi dissects and describes so well. Unsurprisingly her novel was criticized in colonial circles at the time it was published because of its alleged anti-British bias. The author was married to a British police officer at the time the book was written and the main British character in the book is portrayed as a man uncomfortable with his job of repressing an uprising which Han Suyin portrayed in a sympathetic light. Some of her insights about colonialism and its induced hypnosis of inferiority, which destroys confidence and initiative, are still extremely relevant today. "You sap our self-confidence until we exist merely to court your approval (...) You keep us perpetually off balance, unpleasantly aware of our inferiority, and that's the whole secret of your skill and power". just replace the emasculating power of British culture and education on the Asian population with the mind-numbing power of American pop culture and education and you have a very powerful indictment of its hegemonic presence in Asia.
July 6, 2018
This book took my by surprise. It lingers on every small detail so completely and incessantly that by the time the big plot stuff happens at the end, you feel like you've fully sunk into the swamps of Malaya. The narrative drifts from storyline to storyline, each tying back to the others in unexpected but truthful ways.
The novel is not so much a plot-driven text as it is a meditation on colonialism in the mid-20th century in Asia. Personally, I knew nothing about Malaya or the political climate of Cold War era Asia before reading this book. That did not dampen my enjoyment of the book; in fact, despite its publish date, it has many insights for our current world in regards to immigration and the lasting wound of colonialism.
The novel is not so much a plot-driven text as it is a meditation on colonialism in the mid-20th century in Asia. Personally, I knew nothing about Malaya or the political climate of Cold War era Asia before reading this book. That did not dampen my enjoyment of the book; in fact, despite its publish date, it has many insights for our current world in regards to immigration and the lasting wound of colonialism.
May 23, 2020
Suyin’s magnificent novel about the Emergency Period in Malaya and Singapore evokes all the colour and conflict of a land where, in the 40s and early 50s, a bitter guerrilla war was fought between communist terrorists lurking in the Malayan jungles and British, Australian and New Zealand armed forces.
With infinite sharpness and feeling, she writes about the intertwining lives of many people caught up in the clash of powerful forces. Dogged, downtrodden Chinese rubber tappers, a pretty girl called Small Cloud for whom betrayal has become a way of life, and the stiff, aloof world of the British administrators and their ‘mems’.
With infinite sharpness and feeling, she writes about the intertwining lives of many people caught up in the clash of powerful forces. Dogged, downtrodden Chinese rubber tappers, a pretty girl called Small Cloud for whom betrayal has become a way of life, and the stiff, aloof world of the British administrators and their ‘mems’.
August 9, 2023
Thought this was good in terms of giving an insight into the history of Malaysia in the time after world war 2. Without being any kind of an expert the descriptions of various characters on both sides seemed realistic and believable. My only issue was I didn't really feel like there was a particular main story running through the novel. It seemed more like a load of occurrences happening to various people without that much linking them all. I know there was kind of a twist at the end but even that didn't really register with me that much as I never felt that I was following any of the characters particularly. Still I know a bit more about Malaysia now than I did before so that's good.
May 19, 2019
I picked up this novel as a part of the Malaysian Reading Challenge from some post I've found on Pinterest. As soon as I've flipped open the hard, green cover of my edition, I was stunned. Han writes with such an intensity that it's impossible to put down the book until one has devoured all the short stories in this collection. The candid, refreshing style in which she writes, coupled with a unique but familiar (Southeast Asian here) setting of Malaysia makes her stories become more relatable, identifiable and close to heart. Definitely strongly recommended, and will definitely read again.
August 17, 2018
Great book! I consider this as literature. The writing is rich, sensual, and complex. The copywriter is 1956 and the setting is 1950 in Malaysia. The topics are very valid in today's world. I can see the contemporary philosophies of today's geopolitical world in this 70 year old book.
August 4, 2025
My first book in my odyssey on Malaysia
Not knowing much (if anything) about the ‘Emergency’ this book paints a picture of corruption and laziness as the English prepare to hand over power and leave a power vacuum.
Not knowing much (if anything) about the ‘Emergency’ this book paints a picture of corruption and laziness as the English prepare to hand over power and leave a power vacuum.
November 27, 2018
An interesting and enlightening book about a period of time slightly before my own, of which I knew very little. A little verbose at times, but I think it captures the period very well.
August 8, 2023
Fantastic introduction to the Malayan Emergency, and of the general mood of post-war pre-independence Malaya.
March 2, 2024
Very beautiful written book (a few chapters are mere poetry) on life in Malaysia aftershave the second worldwar. Made me understand malayan People a bit better.
September 22, 2024
I'll finish it when I return lol
April 12, 2025
An interesting exploration of often political persecution and some romance.
February 24, 2024
I have read many books by Han Suyin (1917-2012), she is a writer I really like.
Her biography is very interesting, she has had many lives and most of her books are autobiographical or have an autobiographical basis. Han Suyin had a Chinese life described in the book Destination Chunking with her first husband, who died in 1947; she had an unfortunate love affair with an American journalist described in A Many-Splendoured Thing, on which the famous film of the same title was based; she then married a British colonial army officer, and later an Indian engineer, this story is told in The Mountain Is Young, which is one of my favorite books ever. She also studied medicine in Great Britain, became a doctor and also lived in the United States.
This book is about the part of her life when she was married to the British officer. We are in Malaysia at the beginning of the 1950s, in the transition period between the Japanese occupation during the Second World War and independence, the so-called "Emergency" period in which the British, trying to protect their economic interests, especially the rubber trade, fight the communist rebels who want independence.
Malaysia was, and still is, populated by Malays, Chinese, Indians, Indonesians, Arabs, who do not live together in a completely peaceful way. In the book a rich Chinese merchant points out that the Chinese are not allowed to attend schools in Malaysia, so the future of Chinese children is only in trade, but they will never be able to participate in the political life of the country; and this is still the case if it is true, as Wikipedia reports, that the Malays (50% of the population) are today the only ones with full political and civil rights while the Chinese (22%) are concentrated in the major urban centers and stand out in commercial activities .
The book mercilessly portrays some men belonging to the British colonial army, accustomed to having a standard of living in the colonies that with their salaries would have been impossible to have at home, so they move from one position to another with the sole interest of having promotions and reach retirement, without taking the slightest interest in the populations and culture of the countries in which they find themselves.
It seems that Han Suyin's British felt damaged by this book and in any case after a short time the two broke up.
The book is very interesting and flowing, once I started I couldn't put it down until I finished it. The characters are many and very varied (at the beginning of the book there is a two-page long list of characters that ends by saying “and more”!).
Han Suyin was Eurasian (Chinese father and Belgian mother) in the years when being a mix of such different nationalities was not easy, and she is very modern in her attempts to understand and amalgamate each culture.
Her biography is very interesting, she has had many lives and most of her books are autobiographical or have an autobiographical basis. Han Suyin had a Chinese life described in the book Destination Chunking with her first husband, who died in 1947; she had an unfortunate love affair with an American journalist described in A Many-Splendoured Thing, on which the famous film of the same title was based; she then married a British colonial army officer, and later an Indian engineer, this story is told in The Mountain Is Young, which is one of my favorite books ever. She also studied medicine in Great Britain, became a doctor and also lived in the United States.
This book is about the part of her life when she was married to the British officer. We are in Malaysia at the beginning of the 1950s, in the transition period between the Japanese occupation during the Second World War and independence, the so-called "Emergency" period in which the British, trying to protect their economic interests, especially the rubber trade, fight the communist rebels who want independence.
Malaysia was, and still is, populated by Malays, Chinese, Indians, Indonesians, Arabs, who do not live together in a completely peaceful way. In the book a rich Chinese merchant points out that the Chinese are not allowed to attend schools in Malaysia, so the future of Chinese children is only in trade, but they will never be able to participate in the political life of the country; and this is still the case if it is true, as Wikipedia reports, that the Malays (50% of the population) are today the only ones with full political and civil rights while the Chinese (22%) are concentrated in the major urban centers and stand out in commercial activities .
The book mercilessly portrays some men belonging to the British colonial army, accustomed to having a standard of living in the colonies that with their salaries would have been impossible to have at home, so they move from one position to another with the sole interest of having promotions and reach retirement, without taking the slightest interest in the populations and culture of the countries in which they find themselves.
It seems that Han Suyin's British felt damaged by this book and in any case after a short time the two broke up.
The book is very interesting and flowing, once I started I couldn't put it down until I finished it. The characters are many and very varied (at the beginning of the book there is a two-page long list of characters that ends by saying “and more”!).
Han Suyin was Eurasian (Chinese father and Belgian mother) in the years when being a mix of such different nationalities was not easy, and she is very modern in her attempts to understand and amalgamate each culture.
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