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The Gatekeeper
Winner of the 2016 Epigram Books Fiction Prize
Winner of the 2018 Singapore Book Award for Best Fiction and Cover Design
Shortlisted for the 2018 Singapore Literature Prize for Fiction
Young medusa Ria turns an entire village of innocents to stone with her gaze. She flees with her older sister for the underground city of Nelroote, where Manticura's quasi-fantastical sapient races—Scereans, Tuyuns, Feleenese, Cayanese—live on the margins. There she takes up her role as gatekeeper, protecting the city from threats, Human or otherwise.
Decades later, Manticura is now a modern urban city-state, and Eedric Shuen is bored with his privileged life. He stumbles upon the entrance to Nelroote and encounters Ria, who has spent nearly half a century in solitude. As their friendship blossoms, external whispers of the medusa sisters threaten to spark a chain of events that will throw Nelroote and its inhabitants into imminent danger.
“An impressive piece of writing—confident and effortless.”
—Haresh Sharma
Winner of the 2018 Singapore Book Award for Best Fiction and Cover Design
Shortlisted for the 2018 Singapore Literature Prize for Fiction
Young medusa Ria turns an entire village of innocents to stone with her gaze. She flees with her older sister for the underground city of Nelroote, where Manticura's quasi-fantastical sapient races—Scereans, Tuyuns, Feleenese, Cayanese—live on the margins. There she takes up her role as gatekeeper, protecting the city from threats, Human or otherwise.
Decades later, Manticura is now a modern urban city-state, and Eedric Shuen is bored with his privileged life. He stumbles upon the entrance to Nelroote and encounters Ria, who has spent nearly half a century in solitude. As their friendship blossoms, external whispers of the medusa sisters threaten to spark a chain of events that will throw Nelroote and its inhabitants into imminent danger.
“An impressive piece of writing—confident and effortless.”
—Haresh Sharma
312 pages, Paperback
First published March 1, 2017
22 people are currently reading
552 people want to read
About the author
Nuraliah Norasid
7 books22 followersNuraliah binte Norasid is the winner of the 2016 Epigram Books Fiction Prize, for her debut novel The Gatekeeper. She holds a PhD in English Literature and Creative Writing from Nanyang Technological University, and works as a research associate at the Centre for Research on Islamic and Malay Affairs (RIMA), where she studies marginalities and the confluence of religious ideas and secular society. Her writing has been published in QLRS, Karyawan Magazine, AMPlified and Perempuan: Muslim Women Speak Out.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 65 reviews
April 27, 2018
[Prefacing this review to say that my honest review is 4 stars but putting it as 5 stars to make up for the trolls deliberately rating this book low with racially-charged comments like there's too much malay flavour or bullshit like that.]
In writing about the experience of the marginalised, in entering into that often tumultuous discourse, so much is put up for debate. The form is often one of the ways the author can gain control over how the discussion is set. In this case, writing it in this form of some kind of contemporary fantasy mixed with classical mythical tropes is brilliant in more ways than one.
The story is set in Manticura, but of course we know that Manticura is based on Singapore. Malay words pepper the language of sce'dal, spoken by those in the book who are not considered fully 'Human' and references are made to Jawi (which was the script Malays used before we adopted the English alphabet), sanskrit (I think), and various cultural practices that are now gone. Things like chewing betel leaves which I can only ever see again in a P. Ramlee film.
Some things are very blatant like how the marginalised in Manticura are literally dehumanised. The scereans, the medusa sisters, the cayanese.. they literally have physical traits that visibly set them apart from their Human counterparts (in our world of course it's the colour of your skin, if we're talking about physical difference). The furtive efforts they make into concealing difference is something you can sort of understand if you've lived a life going through it. Ria & Barani constantly pull at the shawl above their heads to conceal their snakes, Eedric takes great pains not to reveal he's a changer, those whose difference are less apparent are considered 'luckier' because they get to assimilate easier with Humans. (sort of like how you're considered 'prettier' in Singapore if you're fairer and if your hair is straight, or whatever it is that gives you that backhanded compliment "You're pretty for a Malay/Indian girl".).
A population of them literally live away from acceptable society, literally in the dark, underground in Nelroote. For those who live "above" in Manticura, they are demographically poor, and subjected to prejudicial attitudes and discrimination, of course. The way the state deals with them is also blatantly clear in terms of finding it acceptable to subject them to violence and treating them as something that ought to be 'controlled' the moment it has failed to be properly concealed from wider society.
The strongest, most moving parts of the book, I think, was writing about the conflict people often feel when it comes to confronting difference. Racism is what this book is about, of course (in case it isn't clear to anyone by now) but I think racism is largely about the failure to embrace and confront difference. I felt the conflict that lan faced was particularly moving. For the marginalised and especially the poor, there can be a lot of guilt and shame associated with moving up and away from the environment & circumstances that you grew up in. Lan hears the same refrain we hear all the time -- you think you're better than us, you want to leave us behind, you're a traitor, you would forget your family to prove that you're one of them now. There is also some discussion about the issue of being bi-racial.. Eedric is literally told by his father that is 'tainted' because he is his mother's son and his mother is not human. His father is obsessed with appearing "acceptable" at the expense of allowing Eedric to healthily accept the fact of his identity. It would take long to go through it all.
Ok this is meant to be a short review I would want to write a proper one later. But one last thing -- The stark divide between the narrative of the past with Ria & Barani back when they lived in a village & then to the present with Eedric's narrative has been mentioned in a review to be too stark. But for me, this starkness is actually a reality of how a Malay person is often so detached from our history. It is still surreal sometimes to think that our history on this land is very long one, stretching centuries. Yet our historical consciousness as Singaporeans is utterly cut off from that because Singapore's historical memory is one that does not include that. To acknowledge that is to mix our historical memory with another nation's & that's not good for nationalism, perhaps. In any case, I found this stylistic 'lapse' not to be a lapse, but in fact a true reflection of reality.
In writing about the experience of the marginalised, in entering into that often tumultuous discourse, so much is put up for debate. The form is often one of the ways the author can gain control over how the discussion is set. In this case, writing it in this form of some kind of contemporary fantasy mixed with classical mythical tropes is brilliant in more ways than one.
The story is set in Manticura, but of course we know that Manticura is based on Singapore. Malay words pepper the language of sce'dal, spoken by those in the book who are not considered fully 'Human' and references are made to Jawi (which was the script Malays used before we adopted the English alphabet), sanskrit (I think), and various cultural practices that are now gone. Things like chewing betel leaves which I can only ever see again in a P. Ramlee film.
Some things are very blatant like how the marginalised in Manticura are literally dehumanised. The scereans, the medusa sisters, the cayanese.. they literally have physical traits that visibly set them apart from their Human counterparts (in our world of course it's the colour of your skin, if we're talking about physical difference). The furtive efforts they make into concealing difference is something you can sort of understand if you've lived a life going through it. Ria & Barani constantly pull at the shawl above their heads to conceal their snakes, Eedric takes great pains not to reveal he's a changer, those whose difference are less apparent are considered 'luckier' because they get to assimilate easier with Humans. (sort of like how you're considered 'prettier' in Singapore if you're fairer and if your hair is straight, or whatever it is that gives you that backhanded compliment "You're pretty for a Malay/Indian girl".).
A population of them literally live away from acceptable society, literally in the dark, underground in Nelroote. For those who live "above" in Manticura, they are demographically poor, and subjected to prejudicial attitudes and discrimination, of course. The way the state deals with them is also blatantly clear in terms of finding it acceptable to subject them to violence and treating them as something that ought to be 'controlled' the moment it has failed to be properly concealed from wider society.
The strongest, most moving parts of the book, I think, was writing about the conflict people often feel when it comes to confronting difference. Racism is what this book is about, of course (in case it isn't clear to anyone by now) but I think racism is largely about the failure to embrace and confront difference. I felt the conflict that lan faced was particularly moving. For the marginalised and especially the poor, there can be a lot of guilt and shame associated with moving up and away from the environment & circumstances that you grew up in. Lan hears the same refrain we hear all the time -- you think you're better than us, you want to leave us behind, you're a traitor, you would forget your family to prove that you're one of them now. There is also some discussion about the issue of being bi-racial.. Eedric is literally told by his father that is 'tainted' because he is his mother's son and his mother is not human. His father is obsessed with appearing "acceptable" at the expense of allowing Eedric to healthily accept the fact of his identity. It would take long to go through it all.
Ok this is meant to be a short review I would want to write a proper one later. But one last thing -- The stark divide between the narrative of the past with Ria & Barani back when they lived in a village & then to the present with Eedric's narrative has been mentioned in a review to be too stark. But for me, this starkness is actually a reality of how a Malay person is often so detached from our history. It is still surreal sometimes to think that our history on this land is very long one, stretching centuries. Yet our historical consciousness as Singaporeans is utterly cut off from that because Singapore's historical memory is one that does not include that. To acknowledge that is to mix our historical memory with another nation's & that's not good for nationalism, perhaps. In any case, I found this stylistic 'lapse' not to be a lapse, but in fact a true reflection of reality.
March 7, 2017
I'm the editor for this novel, and am therefore incredibly biased, but I don't care. I LOVE THIS BOOK. It's a phenomenal work of literature, and a fascinating examination of the impossibility of running from your past. Not to mention the fact that Aliah has created a fully fleshed-out secondary world based partly on contemporary Singapore and partly on Greek myth. The two main characters, Ria and Eedric, are alive both on and off the page, with all their flaws and aspirations on full display. This novel absolutely deserved to win the 2016 Epigram Books Fiction Prize, and I sincerely hope that, once it's available in London later this year*, it'll gain an army of fans from all over the world.
* The Gatekeeper will be released first in Singapore, at the end of March.
* The Gatekeeper will be released first in Singapore, at the end of March.
October 6, 2018
I try not to review books I don’t finish. But some books are so terrible that they serve as a prime example of how not to write. The Gatekeepers by Nuraliah Norasid was the winner of the 2016 Epigram Books Fiction Prize. The prize ‘promotes contemporary Singapore creative writing and rewards excellence in Singapore literature’ by awarding the winner $25,000. While it seems to be an impressive achievement for a debut author, when I read the story it felt like I was jamming a block of dry granite into my mouth. I had to drop it after 45 pages.
Worldbuilding, not Worldbreaking. You don’t want your story world to look like this, do you?
The story’s most immediate failure is worldbuilding. The setting resembles Singapore with fantasy creatures. But a Singapore with fantasy creatures living openly alongside humans will not resemble Singapore in the slightest.
The Gatekeeper blends Greek and Malay myths, featuring a range of non-human species, such as the cat-like Feleenese, the dog-like Cayanese, and medusas–in other words, gorgons. Like the gorgons of Greek myth, the medusas in-universe have the power to turn people to stone. And nobody cares.
Medusas are living weapons of mass destruction who stop themselves from petrifying people simply by wearing scarves that cover the snakes mounted to their heads. All they have to do to petrify someone is to take off their scarves — and the potential of even an accidental mass petrification is astoundingly high. Yet no one, not even the Government mentioned in the story, seems to care. There are no inspections or cultural practices to prove one’s humanity, no special military or police units to regularly sweep rural villages for dangerous creatures, no special gadgets to securely hide a medusa’s snakes, not even regular census-taking to ensure there aren’t any criminal medusas or other monsters hiding among people. Further, because reasons, protagonists Ria and Barani, both medusas, live with their grandmother in a human village.
Why would the people allow such dangerous creatures to live among them? Why would the Government allow the possibility of medusas turning people to stone, deliberately or otherwise? Why would the medusas even want to live alongside people if they pose such a threat to humans but do not want to subjugate them? Why would the medusas take the risk of the Government finding out who they are and obliterating them?
These issues irrevocably break the story world. It demands that the reader assume that the Government has no interest whatsoever in the continued survival of their nation, that people are perfectly willing to live side-by-side with creatures that can turn them to stone and treat them as little more than humans with funny hair, that there have never been cases of medusas even accidentally turning people to stone, and that nobody thought of how to protect themselves from petrification. These are utterly absurd notions. It doesn’t matter how excellent the worldbuilding is later on; when the introduction of a story fails common sense, the story fails.
Still a more interesting conversation than nearly everything in the book.
Everyone in the first 45 pages speaks a mix of colloquial Malay and English. This may seem charming, but everyone uses the same emotional register, vocabulary and sentence structure. Everybody sounds alike, even the village Cikgu, or teacher. Without speech tags and without knowing what ‘Abang’, ‘Nenek’ or ‘Cikgu’ means (words which the text doesn’t explain), it’s hard to tell who is talking to whom. Making matters worse, there is barely any dialogue. The first 45 pages averages one or two lines of dialogue per page, if at all. There are people talking to and at each other, but there is no meaningful two-way interaction that brings out their personalities until page 37. The overall effect is that none of the characters, not even the protagonists, stand out from each other.
The prose of the story is not much better. It is as dry as rock and soft as curd. A major character dies early on, but there is no emotional weight to the text. When the Government announces a modernisation programme it is simply dumped on the page without elaboration or context. The early pages features more infodumping explaining the fantastic creatures of the land, even though they have no bearing on the story at that time. It is so very tempting to simply skim over the dull parts — but it means skimming over essentially the whole story.
Our Heroines, the Monsters
In the story world, if you can see this you are already dead, but nobody cares.
Greek and Malay myths have one thing in common: heroes slay monsters. Be they evil gorgons or malicious swordfish, the monsters are universally evil creatures that prey on humans and must be put down. If a writer wants to make a monster the protagonist, then the writer must ensure that the monster protagonist is sympathetic in some way.
The Gatekeepers does not feature sympathetic monsters. When the Government’s modernisation programme finally gets underway, it is revealed that the authorities want to demolish the medusas’ home and replace it with paved roads and modern housing, and relocate the protagonists to a government shelter. A government representative teams up with the local police and Barani’s suitor to convince the medusas to accept their offer. Barani refuses the offer, since her suitor said he wanted to marry her and turn her into an ordinary human. The situation breaks down in a lovers’ quarrel. Ria responds by turning everyone except her sister to stone.
Then she turns everyone in the village to stone. This is the point where the novel lost me. By crossing the moral event horizon, Ria has irrevocably become a monster.
Up to this point, the medusas have not faced unjustified discrimination. The other inhabitants of the village are noted as staring openly at the medusas and warning their children not to interact with them. This may seem racist — but the protagonists are not simply humans with funny hair. The moment her scarf comes off, accidentally or otherwise, everyone around a medusa will be petrified. What parent would not want to protect their children from accidents? You cannot deal with medusas the same way you deal with humans.
The medusas have not experienced any actual harm. They have not been bullied, cheated, robbed or attacked. Nobody tried to lynch them either. In fact, the Cikgu offers to teach Ria at home and a villager tries to woo Barani. Nothing Ria did is justified. Nothing she did is worthy of sympathy.
Barani believes that Ria petrified the government representatives because it was her way of protesting against the authorities. That may be so, but why petrify everybody else in the village? It is not revenge against oppression; they have not been oppressed. It is not self-defence; nobody was attacking them at that time. What Ria really did was to vent her frustrations against a faraway government on innocent villagers near her.
In other words: she threw a temper tantrum. And in so doing, became a monster.
Barani joins in the atrocity by petrifying policemen who were trying to neutralise her sister. Instead of stopping the madness, Barani chose to perpetuate it. While this may be understandable, by choosing to aid a monster she has herself become one.
What made the whole sequence so maddening was that none of the visitors in this pivotal chapter was wearing personal protective equipment. Barani’s suitor already knows that she and her sister are medusas. If he didn’t tell the government men, that makes him an idiot. If the government men knew and didn’t take protective measures against a breakdown in negotiations or even just plain accidents, they are even bigger idiots. If there are no PPE in this world that can defend someone against a medusa’s stare, then why are the medusas even allowed to live alongside humans? Why aren’t medusas shot on sight, or at least forced to live only among their own kind? Why are humans and medusas not locked in a state of perpetual conflict or at least a tense truce? Why do medusas not rule the world with their petrification powers, and why aren’t humans more wary of medusas? The chapter that has the medusas turning an entire village full of innocent people into stone is exactly the reason why humans have to treat medusas as highly dangerous creatures — but the humans in this story are too stupid to care about their own survival.
This is a failure of worldbuilding, characterisation or both. Not that I care — this was the point where I lost all interest in the book. Why should I care about protagonists who destroyed an entire village just because they were upset? Why should I care about a world filled with idiots? Why should I care about a story that fails so badly at the beginning?
If a story contains fantasy tropes then it must explore them to the fullest. If a work has fantasy creatures then the impact of those creatures on people and the world must be accounted for and built upon, all the more so if these creatures threaten all of humanity simply by existing. Without careful worldbuilding, a fantasy story falls apart from the start. The Gatekeepers may have a modicum of literary merit, but as a fantasy story it is an utter failure.
Worldbuilding, not Worldbreaking. You don’t want your story world to look like this, do you?
The story’s most immediate failure is worldbuilding. The setting resembles Singapore with fantasy creatures. But a Singapore with fantasy creatures living openly alongside humans will not resemble Singapore in the slightest.
The Gatekeeper blends Greek and Malay myths, featuring a range of non-human species, such as the cat-like Feleenese, the dog-like Cayanese, and medusas–in other words, gorgons. Like the gorgons of Greek myth, the medusas in-universe have the power to turn people to stone. And nobody cares.
Medusas are living weapons of mass destruction who stop themselves from petrifying people simply by wearing scarves that cover the snakes mounted to their heads. All they have to do to petrify someone is to take off their scarves — and the potential of even an accidental mass petrification is astoundingly high. Yet no one, not even the Government mentioned in the story, seems to care. There are no inspections or cultural practices to prove one’s humanity, no special military or police units to regularly sweep rural villages for dangerous creatures, no special gadgets to securely hide a medusa’s snakes, not even regular census-taking to ensure there aren’t any criminal medusas or other monsters hiding among people. Further, because reasons, protagonists Ria and Barani, both medusas, live with their grandmother in a human village.
Why would the people allow such dangerous creatures to live among them? Why would the Government allow the possibility of medusas turning people to stone, deliberately or otherwise? Why would the medusas even want to live alongside people if they pose such a threat to humans but do not want to subjugate them? Why would the medusas take the risk of the Government finding out who they are and obliterating them?
These issues irrevocably break the story world. It demands that the reader assume that the Government has no interest whatsoever in the continued survival of their nation, that people are perfectly willing to live side-by-side with creatures that can turn them to stone and treat them as little more than humans with funny hair, that there have never been cases of medusas even accidentally turning people to stone, and that nobody thought of how to protect themselves from petrification. These are utterly absurd notions. It doesn’t matter how excellent the worldbuilding is later on; when the introduction of a story fails common sense, the story fails.
Still a more interesting conversation than nearly everything in the book.
Everyone in the first 45 pages speaks a mix of colloquial Malay and English. This may seem charming, but everyone uses the same emotional register, vocabulary and sentence structure. Everybody sounds alike, even the village Cikgu, or teacher. Without speech tags and without knowing what ‘Abang’, ‘Nenek’ or ‘Cikgu’ means (words which the text doesn’t explain), it’s hard to tell who is talking to whom. Making matters worse, there is barely any dialogue. The first 45 pages averages one or two lines of dialogue per page, if at all. There are people talking to and at each other, but there is no meaningful two-way interaction that brings out their personalities until page 37. The overall effect is that none of the characters, not even the protagonists, stand out from each other.
The prose of the story is not much better. It is as dry as rock and soft as curd. A major character dies early on, but there is no emotional weight to the text. When the Government announces a modernisation programme it is simply dumped on the page without elaboration or context. The early pages features more infodumping explaining the fantastic creatures of the land, even though they have no bearing on the story at that time. It is so very tempting to simply skim over the dull parts — but it means skimming over essentially the whole story.
Our Heroines, the Monsters
In the story world, if you can see this you are already dead, but nobody cares.
Greek and Malay myths have one thing in common: heroes slay monsters. Be they evil gorgons or malicious swordfish, the monsters are universally evil creatures that prey on humans and must be put down. If a writer wants to make a monster the protagonist, then the writer must ensure that the monster protagonist is sympathetic in some way.
The Gatekeepers does not feature sympathetic monsters. When the Government’s modernisation programme finally gets underway, it is revealed that the authorities want to demolish the medusas’ home and replace it with paved roads and modern housing, and relocate the protagonists to a government shelter. A government representative teams up with the local police and Barani’s suitor to convince the medusas to accept their offer. Barani refuses the offer, since her suitor said he wanted to marry her and turn her into an ordinary human. The situation breaks down in a lovers’ quarrel. Ria responds by turning everyone except her sister to stone.
Then she turns everyone in the village to stone. This is the point where the novel lost me. By crossing the moral event horizon, Ria has irrevocably become a monster.
Up to this point, the medusas have not faced unjustified discrimination. The other inhabitants of the village are noted as staring openly at the medusas and warning their children not to interact with them. This may seem racist — but the protagonists are not simply humans with funny hair. The moment her scarf comes off, accidentally or otherwise, everyone around a medusa will be petrified. What parent would not want to protect their children from accidents? You cannot deal with medusas the same way you deal with humans.
The medusas have not experienced any actual harm. They have not been bullied, cheated, robbed or attacked. Nobody tried to lynch them either. In fact, the Cikgu offers to teach Ria at home and a villager tries to woo Barani. Nothing Ria did is justified. Nothing she did is worthy of sympathy.
Barani believes that Ria petrified the government representatives because it was her way of protesting against the authorities. That may be so, but why petrify everybody else in the village? It is not revenge against oppression; they have not been oppressed. It is not self-defence; nobody was attacking them at that time. What Ria really did was to vent her frustrations against a faraway government on innocent villagers near her.
In other words: she threw a temper tantrum. And in so doing, became a monster.
Barani joins in the atrocity by petrifying policemen who were trying to neutralise her sister. Instead of stopping the madness, Barani chose to perpetuate it. While this may be understandable, by choosing to aid a monster she has herself become one.
What made the whole sequence so maddening was that none of the visitors in this pivotal chapter was wearing personal protective equipment. Barani’s suitor already knows that she and her sister are medusas. If he didn’t tell the government men, that makes him an idiot. If the government men knew and didn’t take protective measures against a breakdown in negotiations or even just plain accidents, they are even bigger idiots. If there are no PPE in this world that can defend someone against a medusa’s stare, then why are the medusas even allowed to live alongside humans? Why aren’t medusas shot on sight, or at least forced to live only among their own kind? Why are humans and medusas not locked in a state of perpetual conflict or at least a tense truce? Why do medusas not rule the world with their petrification powers, and why aren’t humans more wary of medusas? The chapter that has the medusas turning an entire village full of innocent people into stone is exactly the reason why humans have to treat medusas as highly dangerous creatures — but the humans in this story are too stupid to care about their own survival.
This is a failure of worldbuilding, characterisation or both. Not that I care — this was the point where I lost all interest in the book. Why should I care about protagonists who destroyed an entire village just because they were upset? Why should I care about a world filled with idiots? Why should I care about a story that fails so badly at the beginning?
If a story contains fantasy tropes then it must explore them to the fullest. If a work has fantasy creatures then the impact of those creatures on people and the world must be accounted for and built upon, all the more so if these creatures threaten all of humanity simply by existing. Without careful worldbuilding, a fantasy story falls apart from the start. The Gatekeepers may have a modicum of literary merit, but as a fantasy story it is an utter failure.
March 10, 2020
My first book for 2018’s SEA Reading Challenge is from Singapore! It’s called The Gatekeeper and it’s a fantasy novel heavily influenced by Malay culture.
Obviously heavily inspired by Singapore, the novel takes place in Manticura. It starts when the young medusa Ria experiences betrayal and in her panic, freezes an entire village of people. Since this makes her a criminal, her sister Barani and her run to the underground city of Nelroote. When the war comes, Ria becomes the Gatekeeper of the city, which is how she meets Eedric, a human with monster blood.
Despite the fantastical elements and setting, this isn’t really a fantasy novel. There is no quest for the hero, instead the novel focuses on the developing relationship between Ria and Eedric, which contain some thinly-veiled criticisms of race relations in Singapore. Er, I mean monster-human relations in Manticura.
What I loved about this book was the setting. It was amazing to see a world with Greek and Malay influences and I very much enjoyed the language in the novel. It’s a refreshing change from most fantasy books.
What I wasn’t too fond of was the plot. It started strong, with Ria and her sister having to go into hiding, but then it slowed down considerably. It felt like a good portion of the book was on world-building and the slowly-developing relationship between Ria and Eedric, which is a pity because I feel like the beginning promised a much more exciting read. Not to mention that it almost becomes message-fiction at times, which is a bit too heavy-handed for my tastes.
And there were a couple of things I didn’t understand. At first, I thought that Nelroote was where the monsters hid from humans, but then I saw that monsters live in Manticura too. Then I thought that perhaps these monsters were just in complete hiding, but ‘surface relatives’ are mentioned and one monster is even sent to the outside world for schooling.
In that case, what is the point of hiding? Are they even hiding, if they have enough documentation to get into schools? And if so, why did it take the authorities so long to find Ria? Those are questions that were not answered satisfactorily in the book.
Overall, I liked this book. The setting was very well-done and it had a strong start. Although I’m not a fan of the slow plot, you should consider reading this book if you’re looking for a fantasy with a twist.
P.s. The ebook isn't available yet so it's only available in paper form (according to the publisher, they don't release the ebooks until 2 to 3 years after the book is published)
This review was first posted at Inside the mind of a Bibliophile
Edit: a word
Obviously heavily inspired by Singapore, the novel takes place in Manticura. It starts when the young medusa Ria experiences betrayal and in her panic, freezes an entire village of people. Since this makes her a criminal, her sister Barani and her run to the underground city of Nelroote. When the war comes, Ria becomes the Gatekeeper of the city, which is how she meets Eedric, a human with monster blood.
Despite the fantastical elements and setting, this isn’t really a fantasy novel. There is no quest for the hero, instead the novel focuses on the developing relationship between Ria and Eedric, which contain some thinly-veiled criticisms of race relations in Singapore. Er, I mean monster-human relations in Manticura.
What I loved about this book was the setting. It was amazing to see a world with Greek and Malay influences and I very much enjoyed the language in the novel. It’s a refreshing change from most fantasy books.
What I wasn’t too fond of was the plot. It started strong, with Ria and her sister having to go into hiding, but then it slowed down considerably. It felt like a good portion of the book was on world-building and the slowly-developing relationship between Ria and Eedric, which is a pity because I feel like the beginning promised a much more exciting read. Not to mention that it almost becomes message-fiction at times, which is a bit too heavy-handed for my tastes.
And there were a couple of things I didn’t understand. At first, I thought that Nelroote was where the monsters hid from humans, but then I saw that monsters live in Manticura too. Then I thought that perhaps these monsters were just in complete hiding, but ‘surface relatives’ are mentioned and one monster is even sent to the outside world for schooling.
In that case, what is the point of hiding? Are they even hiding, if they have enough documentation to get into schools? And if so, why did it take the authorities so long to find Ria? Those are questions that were not answered satisfactorily in the book.
Overall, I liked this book. The setting was very well-done and it had a strong start. Although I’m not a fan of the slow plot, you should consider reading this book if you’re looking for a fantasy with a twist.
P.s. The ebook isn't available yet so it's only available in paper form (according to the publisher, they don't release the ebooks until 2 to 3 years after the book is published)
This review was first posted at Inside the mind of a Bibliophile
Edit: a word
January 4, 2018
So when is Netflix doing this?
November 4, 2017
Fantastic elements in literature can sometimes serve the dual purposes of escapist awe and allegorical meaning-making. Nuraliah Norasid's debut novel The Gatekeeper manages to do both in fresh and interesting ways. It melds fact and fiction to bring us a fantasy world grappling with the double-edged nature of economic progress, focusing on who and what gets exploited when that happens.
In The Gatekeeper, protagonist Ria and her sometime lover and sidekick Eedric face constant threats to their attempts at retaining historical memory and preserving a way of life that heavy-handed government-led efforts at advancement threaten to destroy. The result is a fantastical, adventurous story that doubles up as an innovative novelistic approach to discussing the dangers and pitfalls of Singapore society.
Read the rest of my review published in this quarter's edition of QLRS here: http://www.qlrs.com/critique.asp?id=1365
In The Gatekeeper, protagonist Ria and her sometime lover and sidekick Eedric face constant threats to their attempts at retaining historical memory and preserving a way of life that heavy-handed government-led efforts at advancement threaten to destroy. The result is a fantastical, adventurous story that doubles up as an innovative novelistic approach to discussing the dangers and pitfalls of Singapore society.
Read the rest of my review published in this quarter's edition of QLRS here: http://www.qlrs.com/critique.asp?id=1365
September 26, 2018
As the winner of the Epigram Books Fiction Prize in 2016, this book had sparked my curiosity for some time but it was only recently that I got around to reading it. I can't deny that the beautiful cover had something to do with me picking up the book in the first place. I was fascinated by Nuraliah's use of the local to fashion her urban-mythic world of Manticura. While others may have found her mix of Malay, Singlish and English combined with her own constructed languages to be an issue, I felt that
this gave the narrative a uniquely Singaporean grounding. Stories written to capture and defamiliarise the everyday experience of someone born in this island.
At the same time, I really struggled to immerse myself in the world depicted within. Often I was lost in the details of the narrative and struggled to find my place both in the book itself, as well as the streets of Manticura (or the catacombs of Nelroote). Perhaps another reading may yield more, but for now, I left feeling unsatisfied with all that I feel the novel could have offered.
this gave the narrative a uniquely Singaporean grounding. Stories written to capture and defamiliarise the everyday experience of someone born in this island.
At the same time, I really struggled to immerse myself in the world depicted within. Often I was lost in the details of the narrative and struggled to find my place both in the book itself, as well as the streets of Manticura (or the catacombs of Nelroote). Perhaps another reading may yield more, but for now, I left feeling unsatisfied with all that I feel the novel could have offered.
October 15, 2017
I really wanted to like this. The writing is very easy to read, without being simple, and it genuinely seemed like it was going to be a very interesting story. I really liked some of the characters and could see how all of Ria's experiences ultimately led to the pain and hurt she felt. But I have to admit, I did get bored halfway, and when it finally started to pick up again (in emotion and action), the book was over. Maybe it was set up to lead to a sequel but I felt kinda dissatisfied at the ending.
May 24, 2018
I feel bad for this book getting racist trolling. No author or piece of work should be subject to that nonsense. As a social commentary it’s a nice little allegory of the state of societal race relations in Singapore. As a piece of fiction though, it’s just plainly a lousy read.
September 15, 2025
Manticura. A place where 'the others' are discriminated and ostracised. 2 sisters resigned to be amongst the marginalised. Personally, I did not find it easy to sympathise with Ria. And could relate to Barani more. Halfway through the book, I realise I was possibly reading a villain origin story. And honestly, it was more interesting that way. I was ready to let her destroy the world. Because here's the thing, Ria is really powerful. However, she tones it down so that she can be accepted in society.
I appreciated the story. It's set in the claustrophobic underground city for the most part. A woman who can kill with her glare. And a rich boy ready to risk it all for her. Move along if you see Eederic in mortal danger, he is right where he wants to be.
While I liked the story, I thought that some world building were lost on me. Different species of non-humans introduced here and there with not much elaboration. Some stylistic choices were not my preference. As I found it disrupts the flow of the book.
I appreciated the story. It's set in the claustrophobic underground city for the most part. A woman who can kill with her glare. And a rich boy ready to risk it all for her. Move along if you see Eederic in mortal danger, he is right where he wants to be.
While I liked the story, I thought that some world building were lost on me. Different species of non-humans introduced here and there with not much elaboration. Some stylistic choices were not my preference. As I found it disrupts the flow of the book.
March 29, 2023
read this for school, really really wanted to like this but it just wasn't for me :-/ maybe because i'm the furthest thing from a mythology/history gurlie (on that note bless me for hc2005 next sem...) or something but it just wasn't my cup of tea
on another note, i got the chance to hear the author talk about her writing journey etc re: this book and i genuinely enjoyed listening to her talk
on another note, i got the chance to hear the author talk about her writing journey etc re: this book and i genuinely enjoyed listening to her talk
October 2, 2019
An anything but typical story of boy meets... Medusa? Set in the way distant future, The Gatekeeper takes place on the mythical island country, Manticura, strife with racial tensions between the invading humans and the indigenous species of Scereans, Tuyuns, Feleenese, and Cayanese who are driven to live underground in poverty due to a growing wealth gap and their inability to “fit in” to the society that the humans have developed. This thinly veiled metaphor for Singapore probably had a lot of references and deeper meaning that went over my head as a newcomer myself, but brought up thoughtful questions about family, loyalty, and of course love.
June 9, 2018
As a Singaporean, I appreciate the fresh writing style and perceptive insights into the psyche of the marginalised. But I cannot quite appreciate the hybrid structure, the literary ambience and atmosphere of the novel, in terms of mixing local vernacular and thought patterns with western mythic icons, archetypes or mindset. Somehow I find it difficult to digest. Also the second half of the novel is quite over-written, not sufficiently intriguing. Look forward to better writings from Norasid. Her essays and poems are better.
June 1, 2019
Elements and the characters produced in this book is unique ,mixing fantasy creatures with a usual modern day world is hard to picture but this book made that work. Being able to use malay language as one with english effortlessly making it look like the flow is there, although some readers might not understand malay they will be able to refer to the terms at the back of the book as it is not a complex words.
I am still not sure as to what happen to eedric ,i guess he’ll be in prison for the rest of his life maybe ?
I am still not sure as to what happen to eedric ,i guess he’ll be in prison for the rest of his life maybe ?
March 2, 2018
Some sections of this novel are psychologically penetrating, and emotionally resonant, perhaps coming from the author's own experiences in racist situations and the language subtly used by those of races different from her. Many sections are not credible and are over-written. The novel can be condensed in some parts. I didn't like the characters, as they seem to be derived from Western mythic icons or archetypes. Did not resonate with me.
June 14, 2018
I enjoy reading the novel, I mean the first half, as I could not finish it. A bit too long for me. The language is fine, crisp, laconic, memorable, something like Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale. The first part is also fast-paced. But it kind of trails off. The characters, the vernacular and the fantasy figures did not engage me too much. Hope to see better writings from the author, maybe with another stronger plot and storyline.
January 31, 2023
2.75 rounded up.
I love fantastical elements in urban settings so the concept is great. Writing is splendid but it lacks in execution. Story is rushed, hated the love interest and wish there was more world building to it.
I love fantastical elements in urban settings so the concept is great. Writing is splendid but it lacks in execution. Story is rushed, hated the love interest and wish there was more world building to it.
June 1, 2017
First, praise to Nuraliah for her smooth writing and fluid language. Her command of English and her vocabulary, descriptions, and metaphors and trope are commendable.
Having said that, I gave this novel a 3.5-star rating. It was a good read though there isn’t much of a story arc; no protagonist overcoming difficulties, a little character building (between the sisters) but no inspirational moral. Just a story of two medusas—their childhood, their love interests, their killing sprees and their ends.
I find it hard to sympathise with the female protagonist, Ria (born on 5058 CE). At the tender age of 10, she turns the villagers of Kenanga to stones, young and old, children included (pg. 42-3). Guileless, innocent child? Hmm…
With her sister, Barani who is 8 years older, they escape to Nelroote. At age 14, Ria becomes the gatekeeper of Nelroote, guarding the entrance against unwelcomed visitors--scouts, deserters, guerillas, her would-be capturers and anyone who chance upon the gate like the airman (pg. 119). And this is when she starts to collect stone statues of those unfortunates: turning (killing) them into brittle stones statues first.
One glaring plot hole is that half of the novel, starting from around pg. 125 [5116-7 CE], is dealing with Ria when she is 58-59 years old! (And her sister, Barani, is 66-67 years old!) They are probably near to the age of their Nenek before she dies. Yet, all the language and words used are as if they are as young as middle age, probably thirty, no more than forty. The more obvious is the sex scene in 5017 CE between Eedric (born 5088 CE) and Ria. A 29-year-old man with a woman twice his age (and about 12 years older than his mother, Lela.) Ria is 59, portrayed as wearing a skirt with hair as black as night!
If staying young is an attribute of Medusa, it is not well reflected in the story. We actually read about them growing up. After all, their old Nenek dies when they are about 10 and 18. And no one in Nelroote are shocked or surprised by their ever youthfulness. There is a short sentence that may seem to imply that – “She remained creaseless and unaged, even as those she knew from days-back-then folded up into maps of their travelled roads.” (pg. 117-8) But it is just her ‘everyday reminder of the life(style) she (once) possessed…’.
Anyway that whole stretch, from pg. 117 to 121 is not in its proper place too. It is placed in a section labelled “5072-5078 CE”. But that stretch begins with “Nearly fifty years on,…” which occurs in 5116 CE.
I will not dwell on the ending much other than that her presence might be a good blessing to those labelled with “capital fate”. After all, it will be a quick and painless way to go, instead of rotting in the cells…
Having said that, I gave this novel a 3.5-star rating. It was a good read though there isn’t much of a story arc; no protagonist overcoming difficulties, a little character building (between the sisters) but no inspirational moral. Just a story of two medusas—their childhood, their love interests, their killing sprees and their ends.
I find it hard to sympathise with the female protagonist, Ria (born on 5058 CE). At the tender age of 10, she turns the villagers of Kenanga to stones, young and old, children included (pg. 42-3). Guileless, innocent child? Hmm…
With her sister, Barani who is 8 years older, they escape to Nelroote. At age 14, Ria becomes the gatekeeper of Nelroote, guarding the entrance against unwelcomed visitors--scouts, deserters, guerillas, her would-be capturers and anyone who chance upon the gate like the airman (pg. 119). And this is when she starts to collect stone statues of those unfortunates: turning (killing) them into brittle stones statues first.
One glaring plot hole is that half of the novel, starting from around pg. 125 [5116-7 CE], is dealing with Ria when she is 58-59 years old! (And her sister, Barani, is 66-67 years old!) They are probably near to the age of their Nenek before she dies. Yet, all the language and words used are as if they are as young as middle age, probably thirty, no more than forty. The more obvious is the sex scene in 5017 CE between Eedric (born 5088 CE) and Ria. A 29-year-old man with a woman twice his age (and about 12 years older than his mother, Lela.) Ria is 59, portrayed as wearing a skirt with hair as black as night!
If staying young is an attribute of Medusa, it is not well reflected in the story. We actually read about them growing up. After all, their old Nenek dies when they are about 10 and 18. And no one in Nelroote are shocked or surprised by their ever youthfulness. There is a short sentence that may seem to imply that – “She remained creaseless and unaged, even as those she knew from days-back-then folded up into maps of their travelled roads.” (pg. 117-8) But it is just her ‘everyday reminder of the life(style) she (once) possessed…’.
Anyway that whole stretch, from pg. 117 to 121 is not in its proper place too. It is placed in a section labelled “5072-5078 CE”. But that stretch begins with “Nearly fifty years on,…” which occurs in 5116 CE.
I will not dwell on the ending much other than that her presence might be a good blessing to those labelled with “capital fate”. After all, it will be a quick and painless way to go, instead of rotting in the cells…
May 26, 2018
I loved the worldbuilding in this book, though perhaps unfortunately I ended up loving it more than the story itself in the end. The "default" setting of a lot of immersive fantasy is some sort of alternate Medieval Europe, so it was refreshing to dip into a fantasy world not only inspired by Asia but full of modern technology, seamlessly interwoven with the fantastical aspects. The history, language, culture(s) and lore of The Gatekeeper's world are built up and woven through the story with finesse, making it just complicated enough to feel realistic and complex but not yet complicated enough to become convoluted or confusing. There has been a lot of love and thought poured into the creation of this fictional place, you can tell, and I enjoyed spending time there.
The narrative itself lost me a bit after the first two thirds. This was partly due to the way the ending rushes towards a conclusion then cuts off (the dreadful place we leave Ria is either a sequel hook or a severe downer ending) and partly due to my waning interest in and sympathy for the romance supposedly driving the plot. We see most of the relationship from the male lead, Eedric's, point of view, with little sense of whether medusa Ria even fully returns his feelings, which leaves the relationship feeling unbalanced, and, when it comes to the mini sex scene, downright uncomfortable. Eedric's repeated internal narration of "I could have asked if she was alright with this, if it was what she really wanted, but I didn't" definitely do not help, nor does the fact that there is such a physical power imbalance between the two leads. If this is meant to be this universe's version of Medusa's assault by Poseidon (the notes at the end do say Ria becomes pregnant with twins from this encounter, which would align it with the original Greek myth) it makes sense, but if this was meant to be genuinely romantic I'm afraid it did not land for me.
The narrative itself lost me a bit after the first two thirds. This was partly due to the way the ending rushes towards a conclusion then cuts off (the dreadful place we leave Ria is either a sequel hook or a severe downer ending) and partly due to my waning interest in and sympathy for the romance supposedly driving the plot. We see most of the relationship from the male lead, Eedric's, point of view, with little sense of whether medusa Ria even fully returns his feelings, which leaves the relationship feeling unbalanced, and, when it comes to the mini sex scene, downright uncomfortable. Eedric's repeated internal narration of "I could have asked if she was alright with this, if it was what she really wanted, but I didn't" definitely do not help, nor does the fact that there is such a physical power imbalance between the two leads. If this is meant to be this universe's version of Medusa's assault by Poseidon (the notes at the end do say Ria becomes pregnant with twins from this encounter, which would align it with the original Greek myth) it makes sense, but if this was meant to be genuinely romantic I'm afraid it did not land for me.
March 18, 2021
This is probably my first novel by a Singaporean Malay author in decades. And it gave me a certain nostalgia I am still struggling to deconstruct.
To me, this novel is as equally foreign as it is homely. A similar feeling of stark contradition I experienced during my last visit to Singapore. A form of displacement.
The story is imaginative. Set many years in the future with hybrid creatures so diverse in image, the protagonist Ria resembles Medusa with snakes in her hair. She fled with her sister Barani to the underground shantytown city of Nelroote.
Underneath the fantastical realm there are layers to dissect and unmask. I think the author writes with intent to diguise Singapore as Manticura - this novel feels to me, like a camouflaged love-story for her country.
On the fragility of language being lost, and its linguistical evolution. Of displacement and urban gentrification. Colonization, cosmopolitan and modernity - stripped to uphold a single history. To scapegoating and the politics of a city state.
I loved that the author snuck a bit of 'kampung' vibes in the beginning. It provided the warmth and greenery I was yearning for. And bits of Singlish scattered with familiar Malay words she termed fictionally as Sce' 'dal. Although I wonder if non-Malay/Singaporean readers would catch the lingo as simply.
My other criticism is the idea of consent. I cringed at the part where Ria vocalized 'No' but her plea was ignored and the sexual act proceeded nonethless. This is a rape scene, not one to be glorified and I am wary of what message this scene may convey.
I admit that was a little disorienting in the beginning to understand the 'new' languages, creatures and identities. It took until halfway through the book to settle-in, but once I did I understood the motivation and message of the book. It is allegorical with parallels to the society I once grew up in.
To me, this novel is as equally foreign as it is homely. A similar feeling of stark contradition I experienced during my last visit to Singapore. A form of displacement.
The story is imaginative. Set many years in the future with hybrid creatures so diverse in image, the protagonist Ria resembles Medusa with snakes in her hair. She fled with her sister Barani to the underground shantytown city of Nelroote.
Underneath the fantastical realm there are layers to dissect and unmask. I think the author writes with intent to diguise Singapore as Manticura - this novel feels to me, like a camouflaged love-story for her country.
On the fragility of language being lost, and its linguistical evolution. Of displacement and urban gentrification. Colonization, cosmopolitan and modernity - stripped to uphold a single history. To scapegoating and the politics of a city state.
I loved that the author snuck a bit of 'kampung' vibes in the beginning. It provided the warmth and greenery I was yearning for. And bits of Singlish scattered with familiar Malay words she termed fictionally as Sce' 'dal. Although I wonder if non-Malay/Singaporean readers would catch the lingo as simply.
My other criticism is the idea of consent. I cringed at the part where Ria vocalized 'No' but her plea was ignored and the sexual act proceeded nonethless. This is a rape scene, not one to be glorified and I am wary of what message this scene may convey.
I admit that was a little disorienting in the beginning to understand the 'new' languages, creatures and identities. It took until halfway through the book to settle-in, but once I did I understood the motivation and message of the book. It is allegorical with parallels to the society I once grew up in.
May 15, 2018
When I first saw this book, I wasn't keen on it, though I was drawn to the cover design.
Later on, when I was considering the way local authors and literature was being treated, I felt drawn to giving this book a try. I am a fan of fairy tales, myths, and legends, and was interested in how this book might portray the well-known legend of Medusa.
I must say, it was well written - much effort went into building a world of racial tensions, mixed-race relationships, racial discrimination (particularly by outward appearances), and elitism. As a Singaporean, it was easy to see how Singapore now has influenced the way the book was written. The book holds up a mirror to the racism that exists in a country that is so proud of racial harmony.
And yet, I felt a little disappointed in it. After being drawn into the world of Manticura and getting to know its inhabitants better, by the time I finished the book, I still felt that something was lacking. I wonder if I was meant to feel like that. There also seemed to be too much going on, and I sometimes found it a bit difficult to piece things together. However, that's possibly a flaw of mine, and not the book's.
So much time and effort has been invested in this amazing and compelling story, but it seemed to end so abruptly. Maybe I should read it again to see if I still feel like that. To be honest, that might not happen, because there are too many books on my to-read list.
Later on, when I was considering the way local authors and literature was being treated, I felt drawn to giving this book a try. I am a fan of fairy tales, myths, and legends, and was interested in how this book might portray the well-known legend of Medusa.
I must say, it was well written - much effort went into building a world of racial tensions, mixed-race relationships, racial discrimination (particularly by outward appearances), and elitism. As a Singaporean, it was easy to see how Singapore now has influenced the way the book was written. The book holds up a mirror to the racism that exists in a country that is so proud of racial harmony.
And yet, I felt a little disappointed in it. After being drawn into the world of Manticura and getting to know its inhabitants better, by the time I finished the book, I still felt that something was lacking. I wonder if I was meant to feel like that. There also seemed to be too much going on, and I sometimes found it a bit difficult to piece things together. However, that's possibly a flaw of mine, and not the book's.
So much time and effort has been invested in this amazing and compelling story, but it seemed to end so abruptly. Maybe I should read it again to see if I still feel like that. To be honest, that might not happen, because there are too many books on my to-read list.
April 1, 2020
I'm ceremoniously starting my first Goodreads review ever by reviewing a book that I appreciated but didn't necessarily fully understand. The fault is mine completely. Science Fiction or Speculative Fiction is not my forte. This is probably the first local SciFi book I have read but it made me curious enough to explore more.
The premise really caught my attention. I had to stop to process a lot of things about the world but as a minority in SG it was easier to make parallels to the world around me than for others. The people who are upset about this novel addressing struggles of the communities in the margins can move on to things that will soothe them, try Mitch Albom or Chicken Soup for the Soul ok? That's the kind of level you're operating on anyway if you're calling this a "nasi lemak" story.
My honest review is that pacing became an issue in the second half. The first half held greater appeal for me but I think it's an ambitious book with a big scope. Ria was a compelling character. The ambiguity surrounding her relationship with Eedric was also interesting. The details of the world really impressed me. That seemed like the most effortless part of this book like the author really knew all the structures and hierarchies of this place and wanted the reader to absorb it too and find the parallels to Singapore society.
The premise really caught my attention. I had to stop to process a lot of things about the world but as a minority in SG it was easier to make parallels to the world around me than for others. The people who are upset about this novel addressing struggles of the communities in the margins can move on to things that will soothe them, try Mitch Albom or Chicken Soup for the Soul ok? That's the kind of level you're operating on anyway if you're calling this a "nasi lemak" story.
My honest review is that pacing became an issue in the second half. The first half held greater appeal for me but I think it's an ambitious book with a big scope. Ria was a compelling character. The ambiguity surrounding her relationship with Eedric was also interesting. The details of the world really impressed me. That seemed like the most effortless part of this book like the author really knew all the structures and hierarchies of this place and wanted the reader to absorb it too and find the parallels to Singapore society.
January 29, 2024
This was my first ever book by a SEAsian and, even better, Singaporean author. Being Singaporean myself, I felt like I could superimpose the world in this story on to the world in my real life; it was truly engaging and a one of a kind read.
I felt like I got a breath of a kampung life I can only wonder about and have never lived myself in these modern times. (I also loved that Malay words were slipped in, adding to the taste of this book.) I am so glad this book exists because it was such a strong read that explored so many different emotions and aspects of existence as both a human and a 'non-human' or minority. It tells of passion and many different kinds of love, the cruel reality of people on earth, the harshness of life and the longing of family. It confronts the truth of ruling parties and of societies, the conflict of varied principles. It explores the concepts of home and longing. There is betrayal and hurt and joy (but so little of it), and the doubt and emotions we all carry as humans/living beings.
A brilliant find, made all the better by the fact that I found it in a local 2nd hand book store. If there was a continuation of Ria's and Ani's story I would love to read it. Thank you for introducing the wonder of this world and it's characters in to my life. Terima kasih banyak banyak!
I felt like I got a breath of a kampung life I can only wonder about and have never lived myself in these modern times. (I also loved that Malay words were slipped in, adding to the taste of this book.) I am so glad this book exists because it was such a strong read that explored so many different emotions and aspects of existence as both a human and a 'non-human' or minority. It tells of passion and many different kinds of love, the cruel reality of people on earth, the harshness of life and the longing of family. It confronts the truth of ruling parties and of societies, the conflict of varied principles. It explores the concepts of home and longing. There is betrayal and hurt and joy (but so little of it), and the doubt and emotions we all carry as humans/living beings.
A brilliant find, made all the better by the fact that I found it in a local 2nd hand book store. If there was a continuation of Ria's and Ani's story I would love to read it. Thank you for introducing the wonder of this world and it's characters in to my life. Terima kasih banyak banyak!
September 23, 2024
Took a while to finish this book.
The premise is an obvious reflection of Singaporean society and culture, set in the fictional Manticura where different races co-exist; mostly with animalistic traits along with Humans who are in this universe the coloniser equivalent. Raya the Medusa and her sister exist in the fringes of society, hidden away in an underground community trying to survive under the politics of the Manticura government. Eedric is a half-Human living the privileged life but dealing with his turmoil over his late mother's life being controlled by his father, forced to hide her 'other' aspect. The two characters' lives collide and change the course of their destinies.
I was honestly frustrated with this book - though I really wanted to like it. The author has done her best to make this world her own, rich with its own cultural nuances, history and even language. But I struggled to keep up with the different races and their traits, the visuals were hard to follow. The elaborate history also felt too closely linked to real life Singapore, making it hard to take as a standalone as opposed to a copy.
I did enjoy the early parts with Raya's childhood - there is a sense of nostalgia there that felt familiar and warm. I just couldn't get into the later 'modern' parts of the story.
The premise is an obvious reflection of Singaporean society and culture, set in the fictional Manticura where different races co-exist; mostly with animalistic traits along with Humans who are in this universe the coloniser equivalent. Raya the Medusa and her sister exist in the fringes of society, hidden away in an underground community trying to survive under the politics of the Manticura government. Eedric is a half-Human living the privileged life but dealing with his turmoil over his late mother's life being controlled by his father, forced to hide her 'other' aspect. The two characters' lives collide and change the course of their destinies.
I was honestly frustrated with this book - though I really wanted to like it. The author has done her best to make this world her own, rich with its own cultural nuances, history and even language. But I struggled to keep up with the different races and their traits, the visuals were hard to follow. The elaborate history also felt too closely linked to real life Singapore, making it hard to take as a standalone as opposed to a copy.
I did enjoy the early parts with Raya's childhood - there is a sense of nostalgia there that felt familiar and warm. I just couldn't get into the later 'modern' parts of the story.
December 23, 2021
Honestly wanted to like this book so badly but the oddly contemporary use of modern Singaporean prose (and Internet lingo) did not quite make sense with the kind of sweeping epic that the book had set out at the beginning. The book should have consistently used Malay rather than switching to odd internet lingo in the novel.
I liked the Medusa characters but REALLY did not like Eedric nor felt that there was much meaning in his character (other than a literal social commentary on marginalisation). His character also kind of annoyed me to no end - esp in his treatment of women in the entire novel. His romanticisation of Ria (and the quick turn against her later when he gets arrested) was v distasteful to me and so was his treatment of the other women in the novel. He seemed too self-centered and entirely privileged that the function of his character was completely overshadowed by how much of a prick he is. If the novel was just focussed on the Medusa sisters, that would have made for a much more compelling story.
I was also disappointed with some literal parts which of course directly paralleled Singapore but just felt so unnecessary in how it had to tell you rather than show you.
I liked the Medusa characters but REALLY did not like Eedric nor felt that there was much meaning in his character (other than a literal social commentary on marginalisation). His character also kind of annoyed me to no end - esp in his treatment of women in the entire novel. His romanticisation of Ria (and the quick turn against her later when he gets arrested) was v distasteful to me and so was his treatment of the other women in the novel. He seemed too self-centered and entirely privileged that the function of his character was completely overshadowed by how much of a prick he is. If the novel was just focussed on the Medusa sisters, that would have made for a much more compelling story.
I was also disappointed with some literal parts which of course directly paralleled Singapore but just felt so unnecessary in how it had to tell you rather than show you.
May 12, 2017
Wow. Not sure how I feel exactly about this book.
Firstly, kudos to the painstaking efforts of the author to setup the background context of the story (i.e. the timeline history of Manticura, Tunyunri lingo appendix). Really, hats off for the effort. All this gives the novel a feel which you usually wouldn't find here, and it more common in fantasy and or historical fiction. The historical background, cultural and societal setup of Manticura seems to be inspired to parallel that of Singapore.
As for the characters, Ria is fleshed out very well, her constant feel of not belonging anyway. The depiction of the sisterhood between Barani and Ria makes a heartachingly touching one, which definitely helps immensely in their character development, especially driving home Ria's sense of displacement from everyone. Perhaps my grouse is more towards the character of Eedric and his romance with Ria, and even then the background story of his estrangement with his family is compelling enough to keep me invested.
Question though, did the author purposely leave the ending in the chillingly open-ended?
Firstly, kudos to the painstaking efforts of the author to setup the background context of the story (i.e. the timeline history of Manticura, Tunyunri lingo appendix). Really, hats off for the effort. All this gives the novel a feel which you usually wouldn't find here, and it more common in fantasy and or historical fiction. The historical background, cultural and societal setup of Manticura seems to be inspired to parallel that of Singapore.
As for the characters, Ria is fleshed out very well, her constant feel of not belonging anyway. The depiction of the sisterhood between Barani and Ria makes a heartachingly touching one, which definitely helps immensely in their character development, especially driving home Ria's sense of displacement from everyone. Perhaps my grouse is more towards the character of Eedric and his romance with Ria, and even then the background story of his estrangement with his family is compelling enough to keep me invested.
Question though, did the author purposely leave the ending in the chillingly open-ended?
December 5, 2017
I was pretty excited when I saw this book on the mrt and found out what it was about. Partly because it is so rare to see books writren by local authors. The cover was very telling. When the story started I could not get into the writing but the singlish and malay felt familiar, things I hear around me. I think it was unique to use Medusa, a greek myth and fuse it into an Asian setting, specifically Malay.
The things said in the book had me wondering if they were alluding to Singapore such as the relocation of those who lived in Kampungs due to modernization and there are some interesting messages that made me look at myself and Singapore as a nation and culture.
I found myself not really connecting with the chracters but I understood the juxtaposition of Ria and Eedric. The simple and plain girl and the rich, sheltered boy. I did not see the need for the romance. But the message that looks are not everything was relatable. Like why couldn't Eedric just breakup if he was not happy? Some of the words were very hard to pronounce and the rational for the various species of half animal human was almost lost on me.
The things said in the book had me wondering if they were alluding to Singapore such as the relocation of those who lived in Kampungs due to modernization and there are some interesting messages that made me look at myself and Singapore as a nation and culture.
I found myself not really connecting with the chracters but I understood the juxtaposition of Ria and Eedric. The simple and plain girl and the rich, sheltered boy. I did not see the need for the romance. But the message that looks are not everything was relatable. Like why couldn't Eedric just breakup if he was not happy? Some of the words were very hard to pronounce and the rational for the various species of half animal human was almost lost on me.
January 6, 2018
apart from having the coolest book cover art, the gatekeeper is about marginalised communities and dealing with structural issues (race, poverty, socio-economic status etc.). the author is a skilled storyteller who understands and cares about the issues she writes about so skilfully.
what i liked about the writing style was incorporating malay expressions without having to translate what most of them mean. it felt very natural, funny and easy to read. the author understands that there are just some things better said in your mother tongue.
i was told parts of the book will be uncomfortable and while i told myself i like uncomfortable i STILL found the ending to be the most uncomfortable. ok maybe i was rooting for a happier ending. but i do liked that it challenged me about what an ending could be like, despite what the characters have been thru.
the gatekeeper is very significant to me. there aren’t many books written by local authors from marginalised groups (ethnicity wise etc.). so as i was reading this, i felt that some of my lived experiences were represented. the gatekeeper reflected social realities in a fantasy world.
what i liked about the writing style was incorporating malay expressions without having to translate what most of them mean. it felt very natural, funny and easy to read. the author understands that there are just some things better said in your mother tongue.
i was told parts of the book will be uncomfortable and while i told myself i like uncomfortable i STILL found the ending to be the most uncomfortable. ok maybe i was rooting for a happier ending. but i do liked that it challenged me about what an ending could be like, despite what the characters have been thru.
the gatekeeper is very significant to me. there aren’t many books written by local authors from marginalised groups (ethnicity wise etc.). so as i was reading this, i felt that some of my lived experiences were represented. the gatekeeper reflected social realities in a fantasy world.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
March 30, 2024
The Gatekeeper, set in the fictional world of Manticura, is an interesting fusion of Greek mythology and local Singaporean society. I don't normally reach for SingLit but I had to read this for school!
I found it hard to immerse myself in the story initially due to the confusing nature of the dialogues: Fictional languages intertwined with Malay words and sentence structures reminiscent of Singlish. The history of Manticura and its diverse population were also hard to grasp at first as little explanation was offered. Still, the latter half of the story was quick-paced and engaging. However, the ending felt extremely rushed and unresolved, and every character was suddenly ignored to portray the protagonist, Ria's fate. A longer novel with better world-building and a slower pace would've provided readers with a better understanding of Manticura and its people. The writing style is direct and without flowery descriptions, which I'm generally not a fan of. The character's thoughts are clearly expressed and they seem almost too self-aware of their flaws (especially Eedric).
Overall worth a quick read!
I found it hard to immerse myself in the story initially due to the confusing nature of the dialogues: Fictional languages intertwined with Malay words and sentence structures reminiscent of Singlish. The history of Manticura and its diverse population were also hard to grasp at first as little explanation was offered. Still, the latter half of the story was quick-paced and engaging. However, the ending felt extremely rushed and unresolved, and every character was suddenly ignored to portray the protagonist, Ria's fate. A longer novel with better world-building and a slower pace would've provided readers with a better understanding of Manticura and its people. The writing style is direct and without flowery descriptions, which I'm generally not a fan of. The character's thoughts are clearly expressed and they seem almost too self-aware of their flaws (especially Eedric).
Overall worth a quick read!
May 21, 2022
There was so much I wanted to love about this book. It tells us the much necessary stories of colonization, racism, and social oppression. Singapore's history has seen multiple invaders and colonizers leave their mark. The stories of Ria and Edric and other characters touches on the social segregation of different communities. But as a whole, I didn't feel as though the characters were well-developed and despite the length of the book, some of the intricacies of the world's history weren't properly explained. The book cautiously explains that each character is a product of their histories and experiences, but doesn't delve deeper into them. So the impact of Ria's actions falls short. We also aren't told much about the sisters', Ria and Barani's, entrance into their adoptive grandmother's life. The story moves along quickly without allowing room for the reader to sit with the injustices done in Manticura, that are so like the injustices in our world. All this said, the ending is intriguing and my favourite part of the novel. I'm curious to see more from Noralia Norasid!
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