What do you think?
Rate this book
Let's Give It Up for Gimme Lao!
“I don’t aspire to be nice. I do what is necessary to get what I want.”Born on the night of the nation’s independence, Gimme Lao is cheated of the honour of being Singapore’s firstborn son by a vindictive nurse. This forms the first of three things Gimme never knows about himself, the second being the circumstances surrounding his parents’ marriage, and the third being the profound (but often unintentional) impact he has on other people’s lives.Talented, determined and focused, young Gimme is confident he can sail the seven seas, but he does not anticipate his vessel would have to carry his mother’s ambition, his wife’s guilt and his son’s secret. Tracing social, economic and political issues over the past 50 years, this humorous novel uses Gimme as a hapless centre to expose all of Singapore’s ambitions, dirty linen and secret moments of tender humanity.
294 pages, Kindle Edition
First published March 1, 2016
14 people are currently reading
301 people want to read
About the author
Sebastian Sim
3 books22 followersSebastian Sim grew up in a two-room HDB flat with parents who were part of the pioneer generation of independent Singapore. Not one to shy away from the road less taken, he has travelled around the world to soak up different experiences and cultures, and tried his hand in diverse industries: a bartender at Boat Quay, an assistant outlet manager at McDonald’s, an insurance salesman, a prison officer in a maximum security prison, and a croupier in a casino.
He published three Chinese wuxia novels between 2004 and 2012, and his first English-language novel, Let’s Give It Up for Gimme Lao! (2016), was shortlisted for the 2015 Epigram Books Fiction Prize. The Riot Act won the 2017 Epigram Books Fiction Prize.
He published three Chinese wuxia novels between 2004 and 2012, and his first English-language novel, Let’s Give It Up for Gimme Lao! (2016), was shortlisted for the 2015 Epigram Books Fiction Prize. The Riot Act won the 2017 Epigram Books Fiction Prize.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 93 reviews
August 11, 2017
Even if one acknowledges the importance of something, it always needs to be critiqued.
Let’s Give It Up for Gimme Lao by Sebastian Sim starts rolling with a not-so-subtle cover depicting the titular protagonist in a white shirt and a logo. Gimme Lao is a “man in white”, a member of Singapore’s ruling party, and represents the “ideal” Singaporean: the pragmatic rule-loving overachieving human. But as we begin the book, this Singaporean son isn’t that straightforward and simple as he wishes to be.
“There were three things Gimme Lao did not know himself,” whispers the narration to the reader, “the first occurred at birth. The second happened way before he was born. And the third repeated itself many times over his life.”
The narration dives deeper into the lives of people around Gimme Lao in the first half. Each character supervising his life is an aspect of Singapore itself. His babysitter, Elizabeth, named him “Sidney” after Sidney Poitier, an actor who had a rebellious character she identified with. But no one could make the boy say “Sidney” and he ended up calling himself “Gimme”. Elizabeth’s fascination with anything Western grows disastrous as she begins to distance herself from Singaporean society.
His parents, on the other hand, are cousins who have ran away from their families. They have different ideas on what it means to live a fulfilled life and how to bring up their son. Gimme’s father is a shy man with no ambition while his mother has the passion of an entrepreneur as she intimidates and befriends neighbors into buying insurance policies. The husband gets envious over the wife’s success. Their chapter is a tale of humility versus zealousness.
Gimme Lao learns about life from everyone. He becomes cautious of Western influences thanks to Elizabeth. And he doesn’t want to be his father at all. He wants to be like his mother who tells him to always be independent. But that message never comes through. He listens to what he likes and that means a strong attachment to conformism. When he mimics his mother saying, “I don’t aspire to be nice. I do what is necessary to get what I want,” he doesn’t see what’s wrong with this as his parents stay mum over the incident. Rules are meant to be followed and rules are not always nice. It is the job of a leader to enforce these rules. Gimme Lao is a tattletale in kindergarten. He has no friends, only enemies and rivals. His teacher liked him at first, but she realized it was a mistake to encourage his behavior. Gimme only wants to achieve and excel in what is important, not care about others.
And he follows that creed as he grows up in the book’s second half. But he feels betrayed despite all his “good” actions. Why do people still not admire him like his mother? He is the best leader figure the country can ever hope for.
He can’t think about that as he studies medicine. Gimme has a girlfriend and life seems smooth sailing from now on. He is thinking of a political career because he sees himself as a leader. Someone who can shape the lazy people of Singapore to hardworking people like himself.
But shit happens. He is betrayed. He is mad. He is angry. Singapore ought to cry for him. That’s right, the whole nation should cry for him because the people around him are dragging him down over stupid, sentimental issues that have nothing to do with Singapore’s progress as a up and coming first world nation.
These stupid, sentimental issues are what Gimme Lao is not good at. In the first half of the book, he watches a play about homosexuality and doesn’t understand what is wrong with a “legal system that labels the homosexual alternative lifestyle as a deviant and immoral one”. “Emotional intimacy” is different from “homosexual attraction” and the seducer must be punished. This is shocking for the audience, but Gimme thinks rationally: Why do people stage plays about homosexuality when it is clearly stated in Section 377A in the Penal Code that homosexual sex or sodomy is outlawed? That is a crime. People shouldn’t do that and he thinks of reporting it to the authorities.
It’s the law. That’s the endgame for it. It doesn’t matter what the intention is and Gimme Lao follows the law as literally as possible. But this behavior alienates his loved ones hard. Nobody wants to talk to him and he is left alone on the podium with few people cheering for him. He doesn’t understand what went wrong because the law is always right.
And that’s the moral of Let’s Give it Up for Gimme Lao! in a nutshell. It is the story of Singapore’s law-abiding people and their path to ruin without understanding what went wrong. Sebestian Sim, the writer, points to the law as one example. Section 377A’s huge impact on Gimme Lao’s life, even when he isn’t gay, is seen throughout the book. This little leftover from the benevolent British colonialists has ruined lives around him and he too feels the effects from it.
It’s an important satire for Singaporeans who are beginning to learn what it means to be individualistic in a conformist society. Not everything in the law is right. Authorities need to be questioned. People must learn to seek answers and that can only be achieved in a critique of society. Contemporary events referenced in the book like Pink Dot 2009 bring up great discussion topics for readers and artists. And while the clumsy prose likes to be repetitive with descriptions, it does the job well enough to keep you reading. It was a slow burn for me thanks to awkward sentence fluency, but it seemed I was in the minority; others thought it was a page-turner. It makes sense why this book is a bestseller in Singapore bookstores everywhere.
However, there is one strong caveat and it may show why I believe the discourse is not as elegant as it should be. It is also why I cannot recommend this book and write a glowing review like everyone else. In about fifteen pages in the book, Gimme Lao bullies a boy into crossdressing in public and this boy is traumatized forever. The boy grows up to be a husband with a double life: a masochist who cuts himself to feel and enjoy pain. He likes to buy women’s clothing and crossdresses until one day his mother-in-law finds him in a woman’s dress.
And the man hangs himself.
I am extremely uncomfortable with the depiction of homosexuality and crossdressing in the book. Something about it doesn’t work with me. To be fair, nothing as bizarre as the crossdressing man episode happens again. But it left me with an aftertaste that colored my perception of this book’s attempts to talk about homosexuality.
Most of the scenes are fine in retrospect, but I remember reading the relationships between gay men as machine-like. Crossdressing is mentioned again, but it isn’t explored. It is just a shameful kink. Themes of gender are floating about the book; yet, they are not talked about and I’m not sure if they are even intentional. And that’s kinda what I feel about the focus on homosexuality in the book in general: is this intentional?
It has to be because the plot details are closely connection to Section 377A at the very end. But I never really felt like the structure worked to fit that connection in. It didn’t need homosexuality to work. Besides some gay men, there were no lesbians and certainly no trans people in the book. LGBTQ was just one “issue”. It could have been something else like “freedom to assembly” and the plot might still work fine. There was no need to bring in queer representation except it’s the hot topic today.
And that hurts. A lot.
That’s why, as much as I see it as an important book for Singaporeans, I disliked the book at the end. I hate the idea that queer people are used as a political tool in a book that doesn’t need it. I feel like the book champions a cause that it doesn’t really believe in. The gay men are meant to be pitied for and that’s their only role. And the book has the unintentional hypocrisy Gimme Lao has when he claims he is a leader for the people.
A satire that ends up being the perpetrator of the satirized isn’t a shining example. It is an example regardless. If people are still interested in the book, it remains a good introduction to Singaporean literature. But there are caveats everywhere in the example and I cannot in good conscience recommend this book to anyone.
Adapted from The Singapore Political Novels: Let’s Give It Up for Gimme Lao! and State of Emergency.
Let’s Give It Up for Gimme Lao by Sebastian Sim starts rolling with a not-so-subtle cover depicting the titular protagonist in a white shirt and a logo. Gimme Lao is a “man in white”, a member of Singapore’s ruling party, and represents the “ideal” Singaporean: the pragmatic rule-loving overachieving human. But as we begin the book, this Singaporean son isn’t that straightforward and simple as he wishes to be.
“There were three things Gimme Lao did not know himself,” whispers the narration to the reader, “the first occurred at birth. The second happened way before he was born. And the third repeated itself many times over his life.”
The narration dives deeper into the lives of people around Gimme Lao in the first half. Each character supervising his life is an aspect of Singapore itself. His babysitter, Elizabeth, named him “Sidney” after Sidney Poitier, an actor who had a rebellious character she identified with. But no one could make the boy say “Sidney” and he ended up calling himself “Gimme”. Elizabeth’s fascination with anything Western grows disastrous as she begins to distance herself from Singaporean society.
His parents, on the other hand, are cousins who have ran away from their families. They have different ideas on what it means to live a fulfilled life and how to bring up their son. Gimme’s father is a shy man with no ambition while his mother has the passion of an entrepreneur as she intimidates and befriends neighbors into buying insurance policies. The husband gets envious over the wife’s success. Their chapter is a tale of humility versus zealousness.
Gimme Lao learns about life from everyone. He becomes cautious of Western influences thanks to Elizabeth. And he doesn’t want to be his father at all. He wants to be like his mother who tells him to always be independent. But that message never comes through. He listens to what he likes and that means a strong attachment to conformism. When he mimics his mother saying, “I don’t aspire to be nice. I do what is necessary to get what I want,” he doesn’t see what’s wrong with this as his parents stay mum over the incident. Rules are meant to be followed and rules are not always nice. It is the job of a leader to enforce these rules. Gimme Lao is a tattletale in kindergarten. He has no friends, only enemies and rivals. His teacher liked him at first, but she realized it was a mistake to encourage his behavior. Gimme only wants to achieve and excel in what is important, not care about others.
And he follows that creed as he grows up in the book’s second half. But he feels betrayed despite all his “good” actions. Why do people still not admire him like his mother? He is the best leader figure the country can ever hope for.
He can’t think about that as he studies medicine. Gimme has a girlfriend and life seems smooth sailing from now on. He is thinking of a political career because he sees himself as a leader. Someone who can shape the lazy people of Singapore to hardworking people like himself.
But shit happens. He is betrayed. He is mad. He is angry. Singapore ought to cry for him. That’s right, the whole nation should cry for him because the people around him are dragging him down over stupid, sentimental issues that have nothing to do with Singapore’s progress as a up and coming first world nation.
These stupid, sentimental issues are what Gimme Lao is not good at. In the first half of the book, he watches a play about homosexuality and doesn’t understand what is wrong with a “legal system that labels the homosexual alternative lifestyle as a deviant and immoral one”. “Emotional intimacy” is different from “homosexual attraction” and the seducer must be punished. This is shocking for the audience, but Gimme thinks rationally: Why do people stage plays about homosexuality when it is clearly stated in Section 377A in the Penal Code that homosexual sex or sodomy is outlawed? That is a crime. People shouldn’t do that and he thinks of reporting it to the authorities.
It’s the law. That’s the endgame for it. It doesn’t matter what the intention is and Gimme Lao follows the law as literally as possible. But this behavior alienates his loved ones hard. Nobody wants to talk to him and he is left alone on the podium with few people cheering for him. He doesn’t understand what went wrong because the law is always right.
And that’s the moral of Let’s Give it Up for Gimme Lao! in a nutshell. It is the story of Singapore’s law-abiding people and their path to ruin without understanding what went wrong. Sebestian Sim, the writer, points to the law as one example. Section 377A’s huge impact on Gimme Lao’s life, even when he isn’t gay, is seen throughout the book. This little leftover from the benevolent British colonialists has ruined lives around him and he too feels the effects from it.
It’s an important satire for Singaporeans who are beginning to learn what it means to be individualistic in a conformist society. Not everything in the law is right. Authorities need to be questioned. People must learn to seek answers and that can only be achieved in a critique of society. Contemporary events referenced in the book like Pink Dot 2009 bring up great discussion topics for readers and artists. And while the clumsy prose likes to be repetitive with descriptions, it does the job well enough to keep you reading. It was a slow burn for me thanks to awkward sentence fluency, but it seemed I was in the minority; others thought it was a page-turner. It makes sense why this book is a bestseller in Singapore bookstores everywhere.
However, there is one strong caveat and it may show why I believe the discourse is not as elegant as it should be. It is also why I cannot recommend this book and write a glowing review like everyone else. In about fifteen pages in the book, Gimme Lao bullies a boy into crossdressing in public and this boy is traumatized forever. The boy grows up to be a husband with a double life: a masochist who cuts himself to feel and enjoy pain. He likes to buy women’s clothing and crossdresses until one day his mother-in-law finds him in a woman’s dress.
And the man hangs himself.
I am extremely uncomfortable with the depiction of homosexuality and crossdressing in the book. Something about it doesn’t work with me. To be fair, nothing as bizarre as the crossdressing man episode happens again. But it left me with an aftertaste that colored my perception of this book’s attempts to talk about homosexuality.
Most of the scenes are fine in retrospect, but I remember reading the relationships between gay men as machine-like. Crossdressing is mentioned again, but it isn’t explored. It is just a shameful kink. Themes of gender are floating about the book; yet, they are not talked about and I’m not sure if they are even intentional. And that’s kinda what I feel about the focus on homosexuality in the book in general: is this intentional?
It has to be because the plot details are closely connection to Section 377A at the very end. But I never really felt like the structure worked to fit that connection in. It didn’t need homosexuality to work. Besides some gay men, there were no lesbians and certainly no trans people in the book. LGBTQ was just one “issue”. It could have been something else like “freedom to assembly” and the plot might still work fine. There was no need to bring in queer representation except it’s the hot topic today.
And that hurts. A lot.
That’s why, as much as I see it as an important book for Singaporeans, I disliked the book at the end. I hate the idea that queer people are used as a political tool in a book that doesn’t need it. I feel like the book champions a cause that it doesn’t really believe in. The gay men are meant to be pitied for and that’s their only role. And the book has the unintentional hypocrisy Gimme Lao has when he claims he is a leader for the people.
A satire that ends up being the perpetrator of the satirized isn’t a shining example. It is an example regardless. If people are still interested in the book, it remains a good introduction to Singaporean literature. But there are caveats everywhere in the example and I cannot in good conscience recommend this book to anyone.
Adapted from The Singapore Political Novels: Let’s Give It Up for Gimme Lao! and State of Emergency.
November 16, 2021
Very distinct characters with strong personalities, and many a times relatable and understandable motives and actions. Paints a brilliant picture of Singapore — the citizens and the government — from its get-go to the twenty-first century. Thoroughly enjoyed it.
September 8, 2016
What a great read! Sebastian Sim digs into the open wounds that is Singapore and elicit laughter and contemplation. What a voice.
July 11, 2021
read this a while back, my favourite singlit novel... damn funny but also kinda pragmatic (of course it is, it's a Singaporean book ..) anyway would recommend if you wanna 1. get into SingLit and/or 2. need a light, humorous read 9.3/10
September 21, 2019
This book was recommended to me by a staff of Epigram Books at a Made In Singapore pop up in the National Design Center. A persuasive saleslady, she claimed that this was the all-time-favourite book amongst Epigram Books staff for the past few years. Eager to lap up Sg pop culture before moving to Shanghai, I got the book with some scepticism...
... and ended up really enjoying it. It is full of cultural references and turning points in Singapore, interweaved with the life of the titular character Gimme Lao. The plot twists throughout the book were cleverly done, and the author Sebastian clearly understood the psyche of Singaporeans — pragmatic but compassionate. I liked that there were strong women characters in the book, that each character had their flaws but also redeeming points, and that there were so many relevant themes throughout, from politics to image projection to sexuality. I recommend this to any Singaporean and anyone who wants to understand Singapore outside of the mainstream narrative.
... and ended up really enjoying it. It is full of cultural references and turning points in Singapore, interweaved with the life of the titular character Gimme Lao. The plot twists throughout the book were cleverly done, and the author Sebastian clearly understood the psyche of Singaporeans — pragmatic but compassionate. I liked that there were strong women characters in the book, that each character had their flaws but also redeeming points, and that there were so many relevant themes throughout, from politics to image projection to sexuality. I recommend this to any Singaporean and anyone who wants to understand Singapore outside of the mainstream narrative.
September 15, 2020
What felt like a classic Singapore story ultimately left me feeling like this book was somewhat of a protest.
Recommended by my friend to start reading mote SingLit, this was my first intro to the genre. I'm not surprised at the way it challenges and perfectly embodies what it means to be uniquely(or not so uniquely) Singaporean in a somewhat ironic way. From Singapore's independence to the SARS outbreaks and politics, Gimme Lao and Singapore both share a similar path of growth as two separate entities. The many hurdles never truly faze Gimme from achieving his goals of becoming the ideal poster boy for Singapore, mimicking the "hunger" and "drive" that young Singaporeans nowadays are always condemned for having a lack of.
An overall enjoyable read, although I have to say (I agree with you Wilson) that the ending is pretty shitty and the underlying theme of LGBT activism can be disruptive at times.
Recommended by my friend to start reading mote SingLit, this was my first intro to the genre. I'm not surprised at the way it challenges and perfectly embodies what it means to be uniquely(or not so uniquely) Singaporean in a somewhat ironic way. From Singapore's independence to the SARS outbreaks and politics, Gimme Lao and Singapore both share a similar path of growth as two separate entities. The many hurdles never truly faze Gimme from achieving his goals of becoming the ideal poster boy for Singapore, mimicking the "hunger" and "drive" that young Singaporeans nowadays are always condemned for having a lack of.
An overall enjoyable read, although I have to say (I agree with you Wilson) that the ending is pretty shitty and the underlying theme of LGBT activism can be disruptive at times.
May 16, 2016
To be honest, almost every page in this book kept me wanting to read on and on. The author managed to tell a story that made you feel a rollercoaster of emotions for its characters. What I liked best about it was that it is a story about Singapore. The vivid descriptions warmed my heart just thinking about all the small things that we as Singaporeans have experienced growing up. I feel that there is also a lot of truth in the setting of the story and it is heavily influenced on the characteristics of Singapore's cultural, religious and political settings. I cant wait for the author's next book. Fantastic stuff!
May 2, 2016
A powerful tour de force told with finesse and heart, this Singapore Story is a satirical and poignant page-turner written with an impressive eye for historical detail. Its astute and darkly humorous look into the different faces/facets/foibles of society (眾生相) reminds the reader of a good old Chinese literary novel that lures you in, embroils you in its twists and turns, shocks you, and breaks your heart, leaving you on a reflective note long after the (family) tale is over. A must-read.
May 17, 2016
Highly recommended for Singaporean. The story is like a nice retelling of history and to how Singapore changed from a family 's perspective. Most people should be able to identify different historical movement.
June 21, 2018
reads like a series of episodes at different stages of the life of protagonist gimme lao – variously teacher's pet/star student, doctor, politician, model citizen and mouthpiece for the "values" of the one-party state. sometimes it winds into biographical digressions about the histories of a cast of supporting characters that cross paths with gimme & the lao family. these were mostly believable. i get that the point is to shed light on vastly differing socioeconomic circumstances & to highlight the role of these in shaping where the people are in the narrative's timeline, but i felt that at times sim got carried away with these interventions & told us more than we needed to know rather than weaving the details into the story/action itself. the writing too could have been better edited. some characters – like the erstwhile indian best friend and the secretly gay lit teacher, outed by gimme in a fit of jealousy (over the ceded attentions of said best friend) and righteousness – seemed to drop out altogether and then resurface later. i thought this was one of the book's strengths, how it drew these fates back together again & at the same time reinforced the sense of singapore's claustrophobic smallness.
sim gets quite a lot of conventional singaporean psychology right. the moral universe of his creations revolves around acquisition, career advancement, tangible metrics of success, at the expense of the people around them, even their family members. their rapacity might be wrought to an extreme, but it's also how the satire succeeds, spun around a hard kernel of truth. there is politicking and string-pulling in the highest administrative echelons, such as when gimme – as a doctor valiantly involved in battling the SARS crisis, having also insinuated himself into various strategic leadership positions – is chosen to be "groomed and fielded for contest in the next general election", and claims undeserved credit for identifying the illness and heading the main task force (work he did not do) in order to boost his popularity & legitimacy. a bystander, the widow of the martyred doctor whose labour went unacknowledged, notes incisively to gimme's wife, wei wen, that "the hospital is guaranteed a patron when your husband eventually makes it to the cabinet". the idea of 'networking' and performing 'background checks' is effectively evoked: "Gimme Lao had done his background check on the professor. Not only was her husband a cabinet minister, her cousin was a serving member of parliament. With her connections, she could be his ticket to board the speedboat headed for his ultimate destination." those in positions of power are concerned only with their own advantage: "Gimme Lao knew why some of the other key appointment holders were there. The vice chairman needed to serve two terms so that he could qualify for the Priority Queue scheme and secure his firstborn a spot in the premium primary school in Bukit Panjang Constituency. The general secretary was a property agent looking to expand his network of clients. The treasurer needed the free parking privilege disc for his delivery business."
this shrewd, selfish manoeuvring infiltrates & is no less prominent in the domestic familial sphere. gimme might be a potential "poster boy for the nation", but the novel also delves into the hidden costs of his ascension – refracted mainly through its portrayal of homophobia / its focus on singapore's gay scene as it contends with legislative & structural obstacles for visibility & acceptance. it sails through several well-known debacles and milestones of queer history on this sunny island, such as the inauguration of pink dot, singapore's only queer pride parade/celebration, the penguin book-banning saga and the religious backlash. even though mary lao, gimme's mother, reacts serenely to the coming out of gimme's son skye, she actually tells him that she "will publicly condemn your behaviour in church, if need be", because she has to "align my public stance with that of the church". gimme himself initially refuses to attend pink dot for fear that going against the party stance would endanger his public image & jeopardise his chances at the election; he prefers to toe the line & prioritises his own career progression over his son's feelings. the "give it up" in the title is double-edged, inviting us to question what it is we're applauding & espousing; what exactly is the "it" that we have relinquished in the process of getting where we are.
sim gets quite a lot of conventional singaporean psychology right. the moral universe of his creations revolves around acquisition, career advancement, tangible metrics of success, at the expense of the people around them, even their family members. their rapacity might be wrought to an extreme, but it's also how the satire succeeds, spun around a hard kernel of truth. there is politicking and string-pulling in the highest administrative echelons, such as when gimme – as a doctor valiantly involved in battling the SARS crisis, having also insinuated himself into various strategic leadership positions – is chosen to be "groomed and fielded for contest in the next general election", and claims undeserved credit for identifying the illness and heading the main task force (work he did not do) in order to boost his popularity & legitimacy. a bystander, the widow of the martyred doctor whose labour went unacknowledged, notes incisively to gimme's wife, wei wen, that "the hospital is guaranteed a patron when your husband eventually makes it to the cabinet". the idea of 'networking' and performing 'background checks' is effectively evoked: "Gimme Lao had done his background check on the professor. Not only was her husband a cabinet minister, her cousin was a serving member of parliament. With her connections, she could be his ticket to board the speedboat headed for his ultimate destination." those in positions of power are concerned only with their own advantage: "Gimme Lao knew why some of the other key appointment holders were there. The vice chairman needed to serve two terms so that he could qualify for the Priority Queue scheme and secure his firstborn a spot in the premium primary school in Bukit Panjang Constituency. The general secretary was a property agent looking to expand his network of clients. The treasurer needed the free parking privilege disc for his delivery business."
this shrewd, selfish manoeuvring infiltrates & is no less prominent in the domestic familial sphere. gimme might be a potential "poster boy for the nation", but the novel also delves into the hidden costs of his ascension – refracted mainly through its portrayal of homophobia / its focus on singapore's gay scene as it contends with legislative & structural obstacles for visibility & acceptance. it sails through several well-known debacles and milestones of queer history on this sunny island, such as the inauguration of pink dot, singapore's only queer pride parade/celebration, the penguin book-banning saga and the religious backlash. even though mary lao, gimme's mother, reacts serenely to the coming out of gimme's son skye, she actually tells him that she "will publicly condemn your behaviour in church, if need be", because she has to "align my public stance with that of the church". gimme himself initially refuses to attend pink dot for fear that going against the party stance would endanger his public image & jeopardise his chances at the election; he prefers to toe the line & prioritises his own career progression over his son's feelings. the "give it up" in the title is double-edged, inviting us to question what it is we're applauding & espousing; what exactly is the "it" that we have relinquished in the process of getting where we are.
March 3, 2018
Really enjoyed reading this! The scope of this book is ambitious, to say the least: Gimme Lao's life begins on 9 Aug 1965 and his story only ends in the early 2010s, spanning virtually all of modern Singapore's history. Along the way Sim touches on a considerable number of familiar national milestones, from the earliest school dental hygiene/water-saving campaigns to Operation Snip Snip (yes this is actually what it was called) to SARS, making for a narrative that's quite easy for most Singaporean readers to get into. The pacing can be a bit patchy as a result, especially towards the end, but this didn't significantly take away from my enjoyment of the story.
While the political barbs are satisfying, Sim's novel is strongest when it's character-driven. The women in particular are something else—I never thought I'd empathise with, much more admire, an insurance salesperson, but here we are now! The characters are in some ways caricatures of different parts of Singapore, yet their motivations and reactions are complex enough that it would not be amiss not only to believe them to be realistic but to be reminded of people in your life who are just like them. (Gimme, honestly, is the least interesting of the lot... and I'm surrounded by Gimme-types irl.) In contrast, the parts of the book that are more directly drawn from the headlines, like the bit on Pink Dot/Penguingate/Wear White, didn't draw me in as strongly.
I was pleasantly surprised by how queer this book was, and even more so that it wasn't singularly fixated on queer romance/coming out. It's not every day that you get the LGBTQ+ activist movement's strategy of pragmatic resistance (as coined by Lynette J Chua) depicted on the page—in fact, it's not any day that I recall. Content note: this book contains queer suicide, which is always a difficult thing to grapple with—on one hand, I'm as tired of the "bury your gays" trope as the next person, but on the other, you can't realistically write about queer marginalisation without touching on the disproportionately high suicide rate among LGBTQ+ persons, especially youth. I did reflect on why I didn't react as severely to these fictional suicides as I did to the one in Fox Fire Girl, and I think it boils down to two things: first, these characters were given sufficiently distinctive stories that elevated them above the level of two-dimensional Tragic Gay Characters, even if these stories were only briefly sketched, and second, they weren't the only queer characters in the novel, and their stories were embedded in a larger, richer, and more broadly queer-affirmative story. Still, we all have different standards/expectations for what we want to see in LGBTQ+ representation, so I'd expect others might feel differently.
Let's Give It Up for Gimme Lao! is one of the best EBFP books I've read so far, third only to State of Emergency and Sugarbread (both decidedly more sombre books). It doesn't quite get under your skin the way these other two do mostly because there isn't anything particularly new or revelatory in the digs Sim makes at the Singaporean system, but it's comforting to see them reflected in fiction nonetheless—I often feel this level of immediate identification when watching local theatre, but less so in lit. I'd recommend it quite broadly.
While the political barbs are satisfying, Sim's novel is strongest when it's character-driven. The women in particular are something else—I never thought I'd empathise with, much more admire, an insurance salesperson, but here we are now! The characters are in some ways caricatures of different parts of Singapore, yet their motivations and reactions are complex enough that it would not be amiss not only to believe them to be realistic but to be reminded of people in your life who are just like them. (Gimme, honestly, is the least interesting of the lot... and I'm surrounded by Gimme-types irl.) In contrast, the parts of the book that are more directly drawn from the headlines, like the bit on Pink Dot/Penguingate/Wear White, didn't draw me in as strongly.
I was pleasantly surprised by how queer this book was, and even more so that it wasn't singularly fixated on queer romance/coming out. It's not every day that you get the LGBTQ+ activist movement's strategy of pragmatic resistance (as coined by Lynette J Chua) depicted on the page—in fact, it's not any day that I recall. Content note: this book contains queer suicide, which is always a difficult thing to grapple with—on one hand, I'm as tired of the "bury your gays" trope as the next person, but on the other, you can't realistically write about queer marginalisation without touching on the disproportionately high suicide rate among LGBTQ+ persons, especially youth. I did reflect on why I didn't react as severely to these fictional suicides as I did to the one in Fox Fire Girl, and I think it boils down to two things: first, these characters were given sufficiently distinctive stories that elevated them above the level of two-dimensional Tragic Gay Characters, even if these stories were only briefly sketched, and second, they weren't the only queer characters in the novel, and their stories were embedded in a larger, richer, and more broadly queer-affirmative story. Still, we all have different standards/expectations for what we want to see in LGBTQ+ representation, so I'd expect others might feel differently.
Let's Give It Up for Gimme Lao! is one of the best EBFP books I've read so far, third only to State of Emergency and Sugarbread (both decidedly more sombre books). It doesn't quite get under your skin the way these other two do mostly because there isn't anything particularly new or revelatory in the digs Sim makes at the Singaporean system, but it's comforting to see them reflected in fiction nonetheless—I often feel this level of immediate identification when watching local theatre, but less so in lit. I'd recommend it quite broadly.
Read
March 27, 2022This novel proves that it is difficult--if not impossible--to write even a decent political novel nowadays, when everything is progressively being politicized. The novel starts interestingly enough, delineating the episodic adventures of the boy protagonist in kindergarten and school, but once it embarks on politics, it tips perilously into a "Us vs Them" book.
Gimme Lao becomes a one-dimensional character, with no redeeming qualities whatsoever, once he starts his path onto political superstardom. I do enjoy Sebastian Sim's writing in patches, but not the novel as a whole.
Gimme Lao becomes a one-dimensional character, with no redeeming qualities whatsoever, once he starts his path onto political superstardom. I do enjoy Sebastian Sim's writing in patches, but not the novel as a whole.
February 9, 2020
Just an amazing book about the ordinary life of ordinary people in Singapore. Including all of the cultural and religious element of the melting pot that is Singapore. A must read for anyone who have ever step foot in Singapore.
May 5, 2016
A surprisingly charming and winning debut novel about Gimme Lao, a would-be modern Singapore-as-man. This seemingly aimless novel explores both the public and private parts of the rapidly advancing nation-state, weighing its widely publicised gains with its unseen losses, with a focus on the LGBT and religious communities. Unfortunately, its ending is rushed and overly dramatic, and the language is a bit perfunctory, with too many typo errors and unnecessary commas. Still, looking forward to what Sebastian Sim writes next.
May 15, 2020
Because you’re my ticket to my Singapore Dream.
Easy to follow and entertaining throughout. This satire covers everything uniquely Singapore from separation from Malaysia, the handling of the SARS outbreak, interracial HDB relations and the obsession over the 5Cs in a way that remains decently balanced and even insightful.
Although well paced, there is perhaps a slight agenda on LGBT activism and capitalism along with a quite poor ending. Still full of relatable relatives and moments, its undoubtedly a read worthy for any local Singaporean.
Easy to follow and entertaining throughout. This satire covers everything uniquely Singapore from separation from Malaysia, the handling of the SARS outbreak, interracial HDB relations and the obsession over the 5Cs in a way that remains decently balanced and even insightful.
Although well paced, there is perhaps a slight agenda on LGBT activism and capitalism along with a quite poor ending. Still full of relatable relatives and moments, its undoubtedly a read worthy for any local Singaporean.
February 6, 2022
I always have a soft spot for singaporean novels that brings up a sense of nostalgia as I read it. It’s the small things - one look, one word, one action - that make a difference and Sebastian Sim translates this perfectly into words.
I liked the story for what is was, how Gimmie Lao’s life is relatable, yet richly encapsulates the post-independence history in one man’s life. I think the topics of discussion are weaved in such that the narrative is humorous, in an oddly satisfying singaporean way.
I liked the story for what is was, how Gimmie Lao’s life is relatable, yet richly encapsulates the post-independence history in one man’s life. I think the topics of discussion are weaved in such that the narrative is humorous, in an oddly satisfying singaporean way.
December 7, 2021
“The plot wanders in an apparently artless, but in fact artful way... There’s a real sense of control here, and a consistent, organic voice...”
—Philip Holden, editor of Writing Singapore and a judge of the Epigram Books Fiction Prize 2015
“Finding a book that makes one laugh or cry is exceedingly rare these days. Let's Give It Up For Gimme Lao! is a heartfelt Singapore story that is likely to make its readers do both.”
—Lee Jian Xuan, The Sunday Times
—Philip Holden, editor of Writing Singapore and a judge of the Epigram Books Fiction Prize 2015
“Finding a book that makes one laugh or cry is exceedingly rare these days. Let's Give It Up For Gimme Lao! is a heartfelt Singapore story that is likely to make its readers do both.”
—Lee Jian Xuan, The Sunday Times
April 4, 2020
One of the best literary works by a Singaporean I've read up to date. A poignant satire spanning the birth and death of the first baby born post-independence, Gimme Lao is a realistic look into the gritty life of an average person living in the Singaporean society. More than that, it probes into the choices and decisions we make in life and ultimately questions the value we have in this world.
5/5
5/5
May 17, 2020
3.5 stars from me. Some good bits in the book about local issues like the mega church and its attitude towards money (their love of it), LGBT people (their discrimination towards them) and even how members are recruited, appraised and how dissident voices are suppressed. Of course this is hardly a fair assessment of mega Churches in general but the book does raise some pertinent issues of disturbing trends seen in the rise of mega churches in Singapore. Not a bad book overall.
July 5, 2021
A very good read! Humorous, observant, poignantly real. Firmly located in its geographical and cultural location, all the characters felt very familiar, and the historical/cultural ‘moments’ very alive and thought-provoking. I found all the stories within stories riveting, along with such honest portrayals of people’s thoughts processes, motives, errors and flaws. It was merciless in some ways, yet so human and tender too. Clever and insightful.
May 30, 2016
Progressed into a rather enjoyable read. The author has deftly weaved some local hot topics, a few rather current ones at that, against the backdrop of the first born baby to be born into 1965 Singapore. I was very skeptical about the title initially (what a name for the protagonist) ,but the cover made me borrow this. Quite an easy read -few pages as "nightcap" daily and book conquered.
October 25, 2017
A wonderful book that captures the zeitgeist of Singapore in the past few decades. A kind of Singaporean midnights children if you will, but far more low key and less bombastic than Rushdie. Memorable characters and interesting plot lines, with a particular focus on the gay experience in Singapore. However, it didn’t quite stick the landing in my opinion.
April 12, 2020
Appropriately nostalgic, capturing intelligently the human psychology under its many forms and the ironies of fate through all kinds of Singapore institutions: schools, church, army, hospitals & government...
The SARS chapter is an interesting juxtaposition to current times. A very enjoyable read!
The SARS chapter is an interesting juxtaposition to current times. A very enjoyable read!
February 7, 2020
It was a fun read, loved the characters. The writing was a bit basic but I really enjoyed it as a Singaporean-American :)
September 4, 2021
very good character development, unique sg context. an enjoyable, humorous read :)
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
November 1, 2025
If there was one word I could use to describe a key message from the book, it would be choices (or the lack of it). The author paints Singapore as a place where if you want to be happy, you only have limited choices in the type of person you have to be - be educated, sexually straight, be ambitious, and work hard. If you deviate from that, you won't be given the same freedoms and luxuries to enjoy life. But even then, following the traditional definition of success (as laid out by the author) may actually leave you unhappy.
Second, the choices you make in your life story also spills over to the stories of those around you. His storytelling style expounds on the stories of the protagonist and of people whose life journeys converge into his and then diverges away. Any direct / indirect interaction you may have with a person could be the catalyst for their success or downfall.
3/5 because while there are aspects that left me intrigued and reflective, I wasn’t a fan of the raunchiness.
Second, the choices you make in your life story also spills over to the stories of those around you. His storytelling style expounds on the stories of the protagonist and of people whose life journeys converge into his and then diverges away. Any direct / indirect interaction you may have with a person could be the catalyst for their success or downfall.
3/5 because while there are aspects that left me intrigued and reflective, I wasn’t a fan of the raunchiness.
September 12, 2022
3.5/5
A crisp depiction of the "Singaporean values" that are passed on to most in this country.
Each character in the book is used to expose (and also question) the hush-hushed social, economic and political factors that mould (average) Singaporean's thoughts, actions, aspirations and choices.
While the anecdotes and characters represented in the book are brilliant, few chapters felts like a drag without much of progression/development (plot wise).
Overall, highly recommend to Singaporeans for a critical look into the 'SG system' they grew up in. Also, equally if not more recommend to non-Singaporeans for a peek into what being a Singaporean means.
A crisp depiction of the "Singaporean values" that are passed on to most in this country.
Each character in the book is used to expose (and also question) the hush-hushed social, economic and political factors that mould (average) Singaporean's thoughts, actions, aspirations and choices.
While the anecdotes and characters represented in the book are brilliant, few chapters felts like a drag without much of progression/development (plot wise).
Overall, highly recommend to Singaporeans for a critical look into the 'SG system' they grew up in. Also, equally if not more recommend to non-Singaporeans for a peek into what being a Singaporean means.
February 8, 2017
Spoilers alert
The lead character, Gimme Lao is portrayed as typical Singapore success – a medical doctor with political ambitions, having toed the line in strait-laced Singapore literally all his life for instance, he was a strict class monitor when first appointed as one in primary school and took his monitoring duties a tad too seriously, and the unravelling of his personal life due in part due to his only son’s life style choices; a plot development that I could see coming a mile away, but well-handled by the writer in spite of the obvious cliché used; serves as the crux of the story.The novel starts innocently enough with the narration going on about 3 events that happened, which Gimme Lao was not in the know of despite being a party to those issues, a clever hook that got readers interested right off the bat. There were hints of darker overtures with a suicide depicted right at the start however there were still plenty of light-hearted moments of wit and humour in the writer’s lively, vivid portrayal of S’pore in the 50s’ to 60s’ that kept the interest of the reader going. I enjoyed the opening chapters especially the rags-to-riches story of Mary Lao, Gimme’s mum that mirrored in so many ways, the rise of Singapore from a young, developing 3rd world nation to what it is now. The grit and never-say-die attitude of Mary Lao in her efforts to carve out a career in insurance, so as to have more options in life was a refreshing and enjoyable read, as it provided a perspective of this once-ridiculed profession, as conducted in the colourful, old days. However the story turns darker as the writer starts weaving in difficult social issues – what happens to those who do not toe the line in Singapore society e.g. those with a different sexual orientation, and lifestyle, which he dwells at length upon.
I once read before that a good piece of writing challenges one’s regular train of thought and spurs one on to think a bit more critically about issues, thus creating a little cognitive dissonance is a good technique which I feel Sebastien Sim managed to do so by bringing in various representations of stereotypes that rested uncomfortably e.g. the depiction of the un-thinking and self-centred Christian believer, and the exploitation of people with special needs in the guise of Christian charity.
The cognitive dissonance created by the stereotypes do offer food for thought that among many churches today, there exists a herd mentality and a dearth of critical thinking and examining of difficult issues like sexuality and family – as depicted so keenly in this novel, when Gimme Lao’s son outs himself to the family and his grandfather who has never dared to stand up for what he believes in and assert his views particularly to the dominant Mary Lao, becomes virulently offended by the confession and stalks out. The writer attributes this to the comfort sought by the grandfather in an almost obsessively blind following of the tenets of the faith, and in the light of the family history, the reader is wont to agree with such a view.
The novel is replete with such stereotypes – the fiery, gay activist(s) who pushes the boundaries and questions the norm (as if one cannot be questioning without being unconventional or controversial?), the sterile technocrat, the cynical political figures, the timid, mousy Mei Mei that represents the typical un-thinking Singaporean, the manipulative religious authority (the infamous Kong) and the blind follower(s) – that it seems like Sim has a personal agenda in pushing for an alternate lifestyle, which is not necessarily a bad thing as it gives voice to the minorities that are under-represented and stifled by society at large, however the glaring lack of balance in the characters that he brings to life makes me less empathetic to the cause. The only attempt to create some equilibrium that is Mary Lao’s character, the heretofore staunch believer leaving Kong’s church because of polarized opinions to the NLB book pulping issue – again, kudos to Sim for seamlessly bringing in such important, societal events that reveal the widening fissures in our society – appeared half-hearted to me, as it took place only towards the end and in return, Mary seems to have lost her family’s trust in spite of the measured responses she had showed following her grandson’s seismic-like revelation. Moreover, the attempt to draw out the conclusion of a man (and woman i.e. Mary) ending up with little kith or kin due to the prioritization of career and conventions over family (Gimme and Mary’s dialogue at the end) seemed forced and contrived to me, it might have been better if the writer had just left it to us to draw our own conclusions as to whether Gimme’s life choices have been worth the while.
All in all, I enjoyed the book for its unique Singaporean flavor featuring one-of-a-kind local practices associated with staying in HDB flats, the ‘saving water’ campaign, and the bubble-tea craze among others. Sim has artfully pieced all these disparate events together in a very readable book, without the events being out of place or jarring. However, the seeming over-emphasis on issues of sexuality and the one-dimensional portrayal of most of the characters including pivotal ones like Gimme’s son lets down the rest of the story.
The lead character, Gimme Lao is portrayed as typical Singapore success – a medical doctor with political ambitions, having toed the line in strait-laced Singapore literally all his life for instance, he was a strict class monitor when first appointed as one in primary school and took his monitoring duties a tad too seriously, and the unravelling of his personal life due in part due to his only son’s life style choices; a plot development that I could see coming a mile away, but well-handled by the writer in spite of the obvious cliché used; serves as the crux of the story.The novel starts innocently enough with the narration going on about 3 events that happened, which Gimme Lao was not in the know of despite being a party to those issues, a clever hook that got readers interested right off the bat. There were hints of darker overtures with a suicide depicted right at the start however there were still plenty of light-hearted moments of wit and humour in the writer’s lively, vivid portrayal of S’pore in the 50s’ to 60s’ that kept the interest of the reader going. I enjoyed the opening chapters especially the rags-to-riches story of Mary Lao, Gimme’s mum that mirrored in so many ways, the rise of Singapore from a young, developing 3rd world nation to what it is now. The grit and never-say-die attitude of Mary Lao in her efforts to carve out a career in insurance, so as to have more options in life was a refreshing and enjoyable read, as it provided a perspective of this once-ridiculed profession, as conducted in the colourful, old days. However the story turns darker as the writer starts weaving in difficult social issues – what happens to those who do not toe the line in Singapore society e.g. those with a different sexual orientation, and lifestyle, which he dwells at length upon.
I once read before that a good piece of writing challenges one’s regular train of thought and spurs one on to think a bit more critically about issues, thus creating a little cognitive dissonance is a good technique which I feel Sebastien Sim managed to do so by bringing in various representations of stereotypes that rested uncomfortably e.g. the depiction of the un-thinking and self-centred Christian believer, and the exploitation of people with special needs in the guise of Christian charity.
The cognitive dissonance created by the stereotypes do offer food for thought that among many churches today, there exists a herd mentality and a dearth of critical thinking and examining of difficult issues like sexuality and family – as depicted so keenly in this novel, when Gimme Lao’s son outs himself to the family and his grandfather who has never dared to stand up for what he believes in and assert his views particularly to the dominant Mary Lao, becomes virulently offended by the confession and stalks out. The writer attributes this to the comfort sought by the grandfather in an almost obsessively blind following of the tenets of the faith, and in the light of the family history, the reader is wont to agree with such a view.
The novel is replete with such stereotypes – the fiery, gay activist(s) who pushes the boundaries and questions the norm (as if one cannot be questioning without being unconventional or controversial?), the sterile technocrat, the cynical political figures, the timid, mousy Mei Mei that represents the typical un-thinking Singaporean, the manipulative religious authority (the infamous Kong) and the blind follower(s) – that it seems like Sim has a personal agenda in pushing for an alternate lifestyle, which is not necessarily a bad thing as it gives voice to the minorities that are under-represented and stifled by society at large, however the glaring lack of balance in the characters that he brings to life makes me less empathetic to the cause. The only attempt to create some equilibrium that is Mary Lao’s character, the heretofore staunch believer leaving Kong’s church because of polarized opinions to the NLB book pulping issue – again, kudos to Sim for seamlessly bringing in such important, societal events that reveal the widening fissures in our society – appeared half-hearted to me, as it took place only towards the end and in return, Mary seems to have lost her family’s trust in spite of the measured responses she had showed following her grandson’s seismic-like revelation. Moreover, the attempt to draw out the conclusion of a man (and woman i.e. Mary) ending up with little kith or kin due to the prioritization of career and conventions over family (Gimme and Mary’s dialogue at the end) seemed forced and contrived to me, it might have been better if the writer had just left it to us to draw our own conclusions as to whether Gimme’s life choices have been worth the while.
All in all, I enjoyed the book for its unique Singaporean flavor featuring one-of-a-kind local practices associated with staying in HDB flats, the ‘saving water’ campaign, and the bubble-tea craze among others. Sim has artfully pieced all these disparate events together in a very readable book, without the events being out of place or jarring. However, the seeming over-emphasis on issues of sexuality and the one-dimensional portrayal of most of the characters including pivotal ones like Gimme’s son lets down the rest of the story.
February 29, 2024
A political satire that is sure to tickle my funny bone😆 I throughly enjoyed reading this novel, good pacing(although there were several occasions where is ended too abruptly) and a simulated universe created allows me to absorbed into it. I love the many distinct characters, which reflected the many citizens we see here in Singapore!
August 5, 2016
One punch. It took only one punch to change Gimme Lao’s life. When he was born, he was cheated of the honour of becoming Singapore’s firstborn baby on the night of the nation’s independence. And that’s not the end.
There’s tension between Gimme Lao’s parents. He’s betrayed into a shotgun marriage by his wife, Wei Wen. His son, Skype, comes out of the closet, right at the moment when he’s running for political office. Hope, dreams, affairs, death, deception; Let’s Give It Up For Gimme Lao! is fast in its pacing, while still keeping the reader turning the page.
The constant shifts among the characters are done beautifully. Never did I reread the pages to see which character I was reading about. I was so engrossed in Gimme Lao’s life that I had no idea I’d finished half of the novel in one sitting. Considering how hectic my schedule was at the same, it was a rare feat.
It’s one star shy of five because I was hoping some of the scenes were shown instead of being told. Aside from that, Let’s Give It Up For Gimme Lao! is an original novel that is intrinsically Singaporean and a joy to read, for both locals and non-locals like.
As always, by thanks to the kind folks at Epigram Books for sending a review copy!
Review first seen on Priscilla and her Books
There’s tension between Gimme Lao’s parents. He’s betrayed into a shotgun marriage by his wife, Wei Wen. His son, Skype, comes out of the closet, right at the moment when he’s running for political office. Hope, dreams, affairs, death, deception; Let’s Give It Up For Gimme Lao! is fast in its pacing, while still keeping the reader turning the page.
Here in Singapore, breathing space is almost entirely reserved for the mainstream. You are guaranteed breathing space only if you are straight, educated, career-centric, married or planning to, and willing to toe the line. Someone like you, Gimme. You are practically the poster boy for the nation. You get to have all the breathing space you want.
The constant shifts among the characters are done beautifully. Never did I reread the pages to see which character I was reading about. I was so engrossed in Gimme Lao’s life that I had no idea I’d finished half of the novel in one sitting. Considering how hectic my schedule was at the same, it was a rare feat.
Mary Lao herself had no intention to be ordinary. Neither did she want her child to be. If anything, she would be disappointed if Gimme Lao turned out to be an obedient student who abided by all the school rules. She would rather train him to challenge the status quo and grow up to be a thinking man.
It’s one star shy of five because I was hoping some of the scenes were shown instead of being told. Aside from that, Let’s Give It Up For Gimme Lao! is an original novel that is intrinsically Singaporean and a joy to read, for both locals and non-locals like.
As always, by thanks to the kind folks at Epigram Books for sending a review copy!
Review first seen on Priscilla and her Books
Displaying 1 - 30 of 93 reviews