Bang My Car

by Ann Ang

Uncle: we all know him. This is the man who picks his nose on the bus, who will fight for his country and fight you to do it his way. He will shout you into submission while astounding you with his tenderness towards his wife. His standard answer to all you questions is "nothing." Singaporean to the core, this volume of short stories narrated in a mixture of colloquial Singlish and standard English reinvents classic prose forms from the ghost story to the university admissions essay through the figure of Uncle.

Genres: Fiction, Short Stories

132 pages, Paperback

First published November 1, 2012

About the author

Ann Ang’s poetry, fiction and non-fiction have appeared in Eclectica Magazine, the Quarterly Literary Review of Singapore (QLRS), Ceriph, Kartika Review, The Common and elsewhere. Her first collection of short stories, titled Bang My Car (Math Paper Press, 2012), was launched at the Singapore Writers’ Festival 2012. An avid birdwatcher, she works as an educator in Singapore.

Reviews

[Jiaying]

This is such a delightful & light-hearted read! Truly enjoyed immersing myself in the characters & it harbours a sense of familiarity even though this book was published in 2012. Reading SingLit books these days makes me reminisce the days of analysing books, poems & prose back when I was still a Secondary School or A-level kiddo!

It's clever how these series of short stories not only take on the form of a prose, instead it also comes in the form of research papers, live Q&A segments (think those people who come door-to-door to ask you questions; fill up surveys or those people you see standing outside of supermarkets or other sorts of public spaces asking for your input & whatsoever), a newspaper article, or one of my few most memorable ones i.e. a personal statement for a university application where the student brings up about his/her grandfather & the 'senseless' things he does till he is absent & one is left to think about the things you got to document before all goes lost in years to come. Or even one of the stories simply titled, "Drink More Water". It's a common thing that we Singaporeans like to say isn't it? Sounds like a snarky comment & one of control yet in the context of Singapore it's also one of care & concern. There's just so much to think about & the country we reside in.

Those who abhor or have a slight disdain towards Singlish should give this book a chance; that beyond the creole language itself is one filled with hidden stories & tangled meanings. It all starts from the archetype of the typical 'Uncle' in Singapore, which frames the rest of the narrative I believe!

[lauren]

SO STELLAR!!!! i love love love this.. ann ang did such a absolutely fantastic job at character study. i laughed and i cried and i felt so many things and this book is only 100 pages or so. incredible!!!

i love this uncle leh. this is the kind of niche-ass book that not everyone will want to read but lowkey everyone should read. the vignettes of uncle’s life capture ordinary moments that sparkle while still advancing narrative themes that ang has so thoughtfully scattered throughout the book. the sense of continuity only gets stronger the deeper into the book you get, whether it be thematically or motifically.

i found myself thinking of the uncles in my life and that is how you know this book was effective.

if you are interested in reading singlit please borrow this from me!!!!!!!!! such an enjoyable read.

[Eric Fitzsimmons]

'Bang My Car' by Ann Ang Bang My Car was gifted to me by a friend returning from a work trip in Singapore. I am not sure what linked me to this book in their mind but I am glad things worked out as they did. Bang my Car is a short story collection dealing most notably with language in Singapore, specifically the use and acceptance of "Singlish," an English dialect particular to that country. But, as language goes so goes identity, politics, economics, and family, all of which come through in this collection.
 
I, like the dust jacket and the intro, make a lot of the use of Singlish, but the language isn't any more difficult than Junot Diaz [for non-Spanish speakers]. The language represents one facet of concerns across generations and classes about identity. Ang writes a lot about family, with the parents representing a westernized post-industrial economy driven by the need to work and improve their station while older generations pushing against these foreign influences. It's the older "uncles" usually speaking in Singlish, where the parents are interested in wine, violin lessons, and schooling. And we observe from the perspective of the youth, uncertain what to make of it all.
 
Many of the stories are written in the second person, often an old man ranting at the "you" [in the person of some neighbor or party in a care accident]. The effect can be alienating, like watching a subject under glass. The remove is most obvious in "Imaginary Geographies of the Singapore Heartland" where interviews with an unidentified man are dissected and analyzed through an academic lens. But while other stories skip the analysis, the anonymity and one-sidedness seem more like a person being watched than an interactive experience. 
 
I'm a sucker for stories about language. Hollywood loves films about Hollywood, news companies love stories about news, and I love stories that interrogate our relationship with language. Ang's stories try to capture the intricacies of Singlish, but also probe it and the society from which it comes. What does it say when a person chooses to speak Singlish or to speak English for that matter? These questions are being asked all over the world; they can be as wide as the conversations between nations and be as intimate as a person understanding their own identity. But as Ang illustrates, the battles themselves are played out thousands of times a day in small interactions: a survey-taker and an old man, a father and his father, a man complaining to his neighbor about people of a different ethnicity moving to their area. There are plenty of people trying to decode the major events of the day, and they sometimes seem right for a moment. Ang focuses us on the small questions, the ones that persist and point to something bigger.

[Ariya]

Thank you Bo, for making it harder to choose the topic/story for the final paper by introducing me a really good short stories collection here. I must read more South-East Asian and local color lit because *sigh* how can I project all the perceptions of literary value without perceiving more than mainstream cultures like British and American? The lack of cultural references during reading a book is always the cause of my frustration (well said the person who used to 'skip' all of those things to claim that I already 'read' it. Such a painful confession.) How can we assume we understand what we read if we don't understand what made us to read?

It's so far out of the points of this book. *shrug* Anyway to wrap all things up from now on I need to read more local books to get rid of the same mindset I have from being shaped to think as usual. I need to *borrow the word from a teacher* deconstruct myself as we always should do.

what a messed up rambling. Ariya you're a shame.

[Marcus]

I love everything about this book: the local nuances, the use of Singlish, the playful change of form and style, and the indirect sketching of a very direct character-type. I have savored this slowly, and as a non-Singlish speaker I found myself intrigued by the use of the language. I would recommend this highly to anyone interested in Singaporean culture, Singlish, and the pseudo-archetype that is Uncle.

[BabaJiggles]

Rating: 4.5/5

During my lower secondary school days, Ann Ang once came to my school to promote her book. Even though my memories of her presentation have collapsed into a pile of hazy flecks of dusts comprising of vague recollections, therein my mind still lies a significant question which she had asked the audience:

“Do you think that it’s alright for us to use Singlish in books?”

I was your typical English puritan who gave a resounding no. During that time, I denounced Singlish as a disease which Singaporeans were inflicted by – it was the main problem as to why we could not speak proper English, and that was something to be ashamed of. We were often proclaimed as a first-world country with a top-notch education system, but why was it that we still failed at speaking proper English?

Or so I thought.

A few years later and after deeply introspecting my identity and culture, my opinion has flipped 180 degrees, and this time round, I can confidently say that yes, it is alright for us to use Singlish in books because it is an embodiment of our unique local culture and identity. Ann Ang’s Bang My Car is living proof to this statement.

In the book, Ang introduces us to the definition of what an “uncle” is – “a patriarch-like figure considered beyond the bounds of eligibility or attractiveness, whether married or unmarried.” These minute and precise deconstructions of our local culture and perceptions which we have taken for granted are littered throughout the book, and they are one of the main reasons as to why this book was so fascinating to read.

The book revolves around our protagonist, lovingly known as Uncle, and throughout his conversations, we uncover the various gems which culminate into our various quirks – our kiasuism, competitive education system, tendency to follow everything by the book and our fears for the future. It is unsurprising that Singaporeans are generally paranoid of the unknown, what with our shaky start in nation-building and lack of geographical and economical prowess. This mentality is clearly exemplified in the conversation below:

“Why you scared? Why you scared do everything wrong? Everything scared die?”

I cannot die. If I die, no one will pay for the house and the car instalments. If I break a leg, someone may take my place at the accounting firm. Not that my wife doesn’t work, but this is an expensive world to live in. Katie needs to go to university.

It is often difficult to flesh out what makes Singaporeans Singaporean. It is easy to distil these traits into cold, cutting nouns such as “pragmatic”, “utilitarian” and “future-oriented”. What Ang does expertly is to show us the humane side to these nouns and the driving factors behind them which all of us can relate to through the art of Singlish.

Through the various lens which are the chapters are written – Uncle’s conversations, newspaper format, a university admission essay and interviews – we are drawn into a fragmented world which ultimately conceptualises into the Singaporean identity. It is through these expert and slightly satirical deconstructions where we are able to discover what makes us us.

[prawn]

can we get sequel about auntie plsssss,, a few pages in I had the sudden thought that Singlish has only had a life in spoken conversation, i.e. dialogue and maybe for this reason both it’s vocabulary and structure feels so present in a way that I’ve never experienced with other languages. This also means it’s not been afforded any developments and evolvement through third-person prose, reflective poetics and etc. etc. This all sets this novel up for quite an interesting challenge and creative limitations that have made the experience of reading this all the more unique and visceral, because there’s no way to experience non-dialogue prose in Singlish without a feeling of being spoken to by a Singaporean, of being in the moment, of being deeply aware of occupying the same breathing space as the speaker. Most Singlit I’ve read so far attempts use of Singlish in dialogue, but still choose to keep the prose itself in proper English, as if the instructional text must remain somewhat proper and objective, though it creates so much dissonance for me — this inference that we speak in Singlish, yet think in English. Should it not be that if we speak in Singlish, we all the more think in Singlish too? Our language code switching will always be a complicated discourse, just like how I’m writing this review in ‘proper English’, and without anyone even telling me to.

[Maya Saputra]

The book is one-of-a-kind. I couldn't hold myself back from reciting the Singlish monologues by the uncles in my head! Haha. Beyond the unique presentation and the authentic Singaporean flavour captured in the book, the uncle characters are actually poignantly representing the gap between the older generations and their increasingly Westernized offsprings. They are often perceived as "outdated" or even a "nuisance" as depicted in the stories. I can't deny the accuracy of this sentiment.

On the other hand, it really seemed like yesterday when I witnessed the days leading to the election as a foreign student in Singapore.. :)

[David Poon]

This is the best Singlish book I’ve read that is not over the top nor tries to be funny, but still achieve some level of comic relief through its down to earth characters such as the uncle, the roadside sales girl and the poor granddaughter who lived in the future and has no time for nature.

The observations about a people who learnt to be international before being national hits too close to the heart i feel, and the ‘warning’ at the end for uncle is something tragic that I see the past will do to you if you hold on to it too tight.

[amber :)]

3.5 👨🏼‍🦳☕️☕️ this was an enjoyable and veryyy singlit read! i love how the uncle was portrayed in many different lights and the use of singlish vs standard english as well! some of my favourites were the interviews with uncle which were subsequently analysed as an academic essay.

i did not connect with all the vignettes as much though, maybe because the perspectives shifted constantly! but this was fun!!

[tq ꩜⋆⁺₊⋆]

I love that the concept of the Singaporean Uncle is something Singaporeans can all understand to some capacity. I liked how this book tried to capture it via different lenses, from the Uncle as a caricature of our unique Singaporean brand of pettiness to the Uncle as someone harbouring a quiet grieving towards a country that is becoming less and less recognisable to him.

[Kate Walton]

Nice collection of Singaporean micro fiction, some stories using Singlish.

[Breadfly]

This book is an urban geographer’s fever dream. I really enjoyed it.

[Jaime Dimalanta]

A brief glimpse into what may first seem as ordinary stories and lives of Singaporeans turned special through different text mediums.

[mardhiyah :)]

singlit never fails to strike a chord in my heart

[zo]

heheheh nice

[Krisha Shah]

Read for English Class.

short stories I read:
- Bang my car
- Application to duke university
- Abang
- Everybody speaks english
- Uncle

[Ruby Chan]

I couldn’t understand like 80% of this book 😭which also made me think about who the intended audience this book is for. Bang my car centers around uncle and Singlish and Singaporean culture but then it also uses really elite and highbrow English. I read the new edition which included an author’s note. It seems that she’s aware that there is a difference between Singlish and standard English but the huge contrast between the characters she was writing about and her actual writing made the uncles seem like caricatures of themselves.

[Zenda]

An inside joke.

Why in the world is my dad on a book cover? I bolted over in befuddlement and snatched up the thin paperback, scrutinising the tan face, the balding scalp, in search of some form of explanation. Alas, my would-be dad was missing a characteristic mole under his eye; it wasn’t him. I flipped the book over, and the synopsis chuckled sympathetically at me, “UNCLE: we all know him.” Bold claim for a thin book, I thought, and quickly recalled that I was not in the position to be disputing at that point.

Even if I was, Bang My Car would have promptly swayed me into agreement — within two pages to be exact. A peculiar and foundational chapter, “Uncle (N.)” is essentially a two-page dictionary definition of a species of older man that has populated Singapore. The patriarch-like figure is described to take black coffee in glass cups with small metal spoons, sit on trains with his legs wide apart, and have a Facebook account featuring lively meditations on the state of local government. I know him. Somehow managing to be both blanketing and precise, this chapter foregrounds the wit in pages to come.

By capturing the idiosyncrasies of local speech, Ang manages to construct earnest yet playful depictions of every-day Singapore. “Scared for what”, included in The Epigram Collection of Best New Singaporean Short Stories and originally publishedin this text, exemplifies the writer’s perceptiveness and command of collo- quial speech. With great restraint and intentionality, the story depicts trivial familial discords to affectively convey the anxieties of dying. This understated artistry runs through each digestible spurt, every story a fleeting narration of Uncle’s life that seems to hint at something bigger.

Singaporean readers scanning through the glossary at the back might almost deem the section unnecessary, with terminology like Angmoh and CBD being everyday vocabulary. Uncle talking back to his nagging wife in “Drink More Water” recalls a conversation between your parents that you overheard a few days ago, and Uncle entering the emotional minefield of local elections in “Fair is Fair” is essentially extrapolated from the infuriating dinner con- versation yesterday. It is no doubt that Ang is skilful is transcribing real life, but what does the reader, who is already living this reality, have to gain from reliving it again on paper?

On one level, Bang My Car is a site for communal gathering — like Botaneek gah-den. It can survive not demanding much from its reader apart from presence. Uncle’s peculi- arities usurp the relevance of race, language, or religion, and his individuality is made the common experience. The typically isolated experience of reading is made social by the preemptive text; it gets you. All it hopes for us to do is nod at the disconcerting familiarity of “Nowadays you young people...”

On another, it uses the mundane to implicitly make incisive social commentary. Not- so-subtly, “Man Causes Commotion over Melons” is presented in the form of a newspaper article, where the story’s title is the article’s underwhelming headline. The quality (or delib- erate lack thereof) of its content recalls STOMP; a Singapore-based online web journal that specialises in sensationalised but unsubstantial ‘news’. Uncle is a fixture on STOMP and is often the victim of quick judgement, however the compilation of stories in Bang My Car is committed to humanising his figure. Upon reaching this story, Ang evokes pathos from readers instead. Partly satirical, partly sympathetic, “Man Causes Commotion Over Melons” transcends artificiality and somehow deftly enters the realm of social activism. Continuously focusing on the character of Uncle, the stories still vary in form, from an academic study in “Imaginary Geographies of The Singapore Heartland” to a college admissions essay in “Application to Duke University: Undergraduate Admissions”.

While this variation is inventive and entertaining, it falls shorts of entirely distracting from the text’s repetitive speech patterns. Initially piquing our mind’s ear, Bang My Car is a grating read when the novelty of verbal mimicry wears off. It becomes glaringly apparent that Ang’s writing in this compilation is binary: either conceitedly proper, or caricatured with “wah lao eh” and “doan”. Universality as a theme bleeds into the text’s formal features, and causes it to lapse into monotony. Regardless, the figure of Uncle gradually becomes a road map to Singapore’s figurative topography — our short history, hypothetical futures, western influences, Asian pressures, political disenchantments, and emotional investments.

As with uncles, the short stories in Ann Ang’s Bang My Car are loaded with nuggets of wisdom, but are best encountered individually and with patience. “What I want to say I tell you already. Ok lah, ok lah, can already, can already.”

[Nichole]

I adore this book so much. Presents graceful mastery of prose (in various formats and styles). Singlish interwoven beautifully and it never feels forced. Bought this book intending to sell it off once I finished but I will keep this on my shelf forever and buy many more to gift to friends so they may also experience Ann ang’s work

[Jake]

Like 2 am gou lou yoke levels of morphine, this collection fingered my tender Singaporean boy heart (which, coincidentally, I did to a sheep's heart myself in Sec 3 for biology class). And it got me to rewatch Royston Tan's 15.

In other words, I liked it.

[Review 1 - 05/05/17.]

[Sabrina Loh]

A book written in so much Singlish--that it actually works! A rollicking good time.

[Guan You]

Loved how the urban neighborhood spaces of Singapore is so much portrayed as a liminal space, in which different personas occupy and assert their individual identities at various times.

[PS]

I feel that this book has clearly captured the everyday life of Singaporeans. Really love how the author capture those tiny details!

[Fikri]

Novel yet deeply familiar. I usually have mixed feelings about authors using Singlish (especially if they're bad at it and/or clearly do not use it irl), but it works in this one.