Sparked by the description of a ‘Malay trollop’ in W. Somerset Maugham’s story, ‘The Four Dutchmen’, Mirandi Riwoe’s novella, The Fish Girl, tells of an Indonesian girl whose life is changed irrevocably when she moves from a small fishing village to work in the house of a Dutch merchant. There she finds both hardship and tenderness as her traditional past and colonial present collide.
Told with an exquisitely restrained voice and coloured with lush description, this moving book will stay with you long after the last page.
Mirandi Riwoe is a Brisbane-based writer. She has been shortlisted for Overland's Neilma Sidney Short Story Prize, the Josephine Ulrick Short Story Prize and the Luke Bitmead Bursary. She has also been longlisted for the ABR Elizabeth Jolley Short Story Prize and CWA (UK) dagger awards. Her work has appeared in Review of Australian Fiction, Rex, Peril and Shibboleth and Other Stories. Her first novel, She be Damned, will be released by Legend Press (UK) in 2017. Mirandi has a PhD in Creative Writing and Literary Studies (QUT).
"What difference is there in the color of the soul?" —Solomon Northrup
3.5 stars
This touching 110-page novella is set in 19th century colonial Indonesia when the archipelago was under Dutch rule.
Pretty village girl, Mina, is offered up as 'chattel' to a rich Dutch merchant by her impoverished fisherman father, who expects some kind of gainful return for relinquishing his 'prized' possession. Mina has no say in the matter and is summarily forced to leave home to begin work at the house of her new white master. This theme of betrayal is a common thread throughout and our eponymous Fish Girl has no more control over her destiny than a piece of flotsam clinging onto waves. The tale is rich with foreboding and I keenly wished I could dive into the pages to rescue the poor girl.
Mina is hopelessly adrift in this unjust world and the sea seems to be her only salvation.
Riwoe's writing is uncomplicated but arresting, her scene-setting immersive. I enjoyed this haunting fable; it reminded me very much of Claire Keegan's Foster. The ending was powerful, albeit a little rushed.
This was a buddy read with admirable possums, Nat and Collin, whose bookish intuition continues to astonish. Also, they enthused over it more than I.
"She has been exchanged for rice, tobacco, maybe even a live chicken or goat."
What an incredibly sad tale. I’m not sure exactly when this is meant to have been set, perhaps the 1800s. Mina is a young, innocent and naïve Indonesian girl. It has been decided she is to leave her poor fishing village, to work in the kitchen in the household of a Dutch merchant, a day's walk away. Though frightened and not wanting to go, Mina has little choice. She hopes she will bring pride to her family and perhaps even be able to occasionally visit them; hopefully with gifts of food, clothes or tobacco.
The writing is evocative and sensual. You can smell the sizzle of garlic and sambal cooking, the heat of the spices, the sweetness of coconut, the sultriness of a summer's night and the refreshing caress of the sea. It’s beautifully done.
This is such an incredibly sad story where a loved daughter is traded as a commodity. The final morning when Mina leaves her village, her Mum cooks her an extra special breakfast which they can ill afford, and presents Mina with her best sarong to wear. It brought a lump to my throat.
Reading a book like this makes me really wonder about the dark heart some people have. The lack of regard and respect for another human being. Even when viewed in context through a historical lens, it still reeks of cruelty. And incredible disdain.
I realise that looking at a story with a modern eye holds a lot of bias. The disbelief at the cruelty of an earlier culture and way of thinking. But I know that sadly, so much of this still occurs today.
Apparently this book is based on the character of a poor servant girl, in a short story called “The Four Dutchmen” by W. Somerset Maugham. I have to admit to not having heard of it before. I think it’s clever and creative of Mirandi Riwoe to take an ancillary character, and base an entire story around her. Kudos to Mirandi. However after reading this novella, I have no desire whatsoever to read the ‘original’. I think I would combust with the misogyny that story is sure to contain.
I read this across one evening. I read into the wee small hours. It could probably be read in a single sitting, taking perhaps an hour or so. But I took breaks so I could absorb the story, and ponder on Mina's plight.
This story broke my heart. For a novella - and a slim one at that - so many feelings and emotions are portrayed. It packs a punch and carries more weight than some books three times its size. Though the ending (sad as it was in many respects) was also perfect. No spoilers, but it’s yet another book by an Aussie writer, that has got the ending so right.
"...she is finally back in the sunlight, scaling down fish with her mother."
When Junius asks the fisherman how old his daughter is. The father replies with hand signals. Signalling to Junius how tall she is, holding his fingers next to his ears. Junius’ question has resulted from the father telling him that his daughter is good with the scaling knife. Junius is looking for somebody to work in the Dutch Resident’s house. The fish girls’ father is only thinking of himself as he rushes off to get his daughter. Ruminating on the possibilities of what his daughter may bring home with her when she visits.
When the father returns with his daughter Mina, Junius approves and tells the father to have her ready to leave the next morning. Mina has no idea what is happening, questioning her mother has she done something wrong. She does not want to go. She has never left the village before.
The sudden displacement for Mina must be incredible, she has only ever seen a white man once before. She knows not what she will be doing. It is impossible for us to experience what Mina must have been feeling, maybe if we were taken to an alien planet, not sure what we would be doing and only ever having seen the alien once before, we may come close.
Mina is put to work in the kitchen and almost immediately falls under the ire of the head cook.
However, in contrast, the owner of the residency takes a shine to Mina, and soon she has moved from the kitchen to serving him his meals.
Another Dutchman is smitten with Mina, this time the Captain of a ship who sees her while dining at the residency. While his lust grows, he works out a way of spending time with her under the false pretense of wanting her to teach him her language. While feigning interest, he gives her gifts and is charming and respectful towards Mina.
Mina, a virgin, and very naïve, is in love with Ajat, who also works at the residency and was the son of the Village Chief back in her old life.
As this is such a terribly short novella, I feel to reveal anymore of the narrative would spoil the story, although readers who have read Somerset Maugham’s short story “The Four Dutchman” will know what is going to happen.
I must commend Riwoe for what she has written here. She has taken the stereotypical island girl, basically just a prop for the sailors and seaman of that era to satiate their lust, and allowed the reader to experience what it must have been like for them, through the eyes of Mina, a character from another short story in which she remains nameless. Essentially Mina shows the reader that these women had very little, if any, say in their own lives.
This was a buddy read with the wonderful Nat K and the brilliant Kevvy Ansbro so please check out their reviews when they post them.
I have not read “The Four Dutchman”. I was originally going to give this 3.5 stars, but I went and read it a second time (it's very short) and I believe that it deserves 4. Maybe more after reading “The Four Dutchman”.
This is my first read from the shortlist of the 2018 Stella prize for Australian woman writers.
The Fish Girl is a beautiful little novella inspired by a short-story by Somerset Maugham called The Four Dutchman. I don't think it is necessary to have read that story before approaching The Fish Girl, small quotes from it head up each section, but I do think reading it at some point would make an interesting study. The writing here is straightforward but beautifully sensory, placing you immediately in the lush bright world of Java. The descriptions of food, and clothing, the routines of village life are outstanding.
It was a worthwhile experience to read this in a single sitting, to allow yourself to be transported trance like to the world of the Dutch East Indies and spend time with the Fish Girl.
A bewitching little tale, from an author to watch out for in future.
A novella about when your parents think ‘the grass is greener on the other side’, for you. Mina, that daughter, was sent packing when a Dutch master (during the colonial era) came looking for workers. The standard of life was higher, which Mina enjoyed, but it was not so easy navigating the dangers of life without a guardian. Especially when her world knowledge was limited to her fishing village in Java.
I was engaged the whole time. The plot was great. A few things were up in the air regarding the plot direction, keeping things interesting. The characters were wholesome and included a mixture of desirable and undesirable qualities.
There was probably a feminst angle in there somewhere, but if so it wasn’t in your face or exaggerated. The time period was well described. It felt old but not historical. Or rather, there was no historical tedium in it. It was poetic and fresh. The location, Wijnkoopsbaai, now Palabuhanratu, sounded so wonderful I was straight onto the digital atlas/satellite and looking at tourism. There is a popular surfing beach nearby (not that I surf 🦈). I wonder how much Dutch-ness remains post-Independance.
I will read more from this author as well as other books that also won the Seizure Viva Novella Prize.
This is a review of the perfect gem of a novella that is The Fish Girl (Xoum Seizure 2017) by Mirandi Stanton (Riwoe), winner of the 2017 Seizure Viva la Novella Prize, but before I explore that I have two relevant comments. The first is to commend the high quality of Australian writing – especially by women – that I have been fortunate to read and review recently. We are breeding some seriously talented writers and I am so enjoying the breadth and depth of their work. Secondly, and this relates particularly to novellas, I reviewed two of the previous winners of the Seizure Viva la Novella Prize (Christy Collins and Julie Proudfoot) and couldn’t speak highly enough of their work. And now, here we have another. I’m happy to say the high bar has been surpassed yet again. The Fish Girl is in the same league as Nick Earls' Wisdom Tree series. Mirandi’s voice is clear and assured as she envelopes us in a sensory experience inspired by Somerset Maugham’s story ‘The Four Dutchmen’. Mina is an Indonesian girl living a simple life in a fishing village when she is chosen to accompany a Dutch merchant and work in his household. Her life is irrevocably changed by the people she meets and the choices she makes, and by the decisions made by those more powerful around her. This tale is a parable and a fairy story grounded in the rich and luscious detail of the tropics. The language is deceptively simple and the dialogue natural. Native words, customs and objects are deftly incorporated into the narrative with such ease and grace that we feel magically transported to the setting. The themes – of love and yearning, of betrayal and sacrifice, of shame and longing – are universal, yet poignantly specific to this girl, this landscape, this one young woman’s story. Each character is perfectly drawn. The sounds of the market, the smells and tastes of the food, the temper of the weather and the sea, all are engaging and curious. Like the best fairy tales, this story has both tragedy and hope at its heart, and a mystical and profound message, and would make the ideal gift for someone special in your life.
A gorgeous novella that makes high art of Maugham's scraps, The Fish Girl will draw you in gently before plunging a thousand daggers into your soul. Extraordinary.
Short and powerful, this is a beautifully written novella that packs a lot into its 100 pages. I wondered if I was missing something by having no familiarity with the Maugham book that this launches off, but the story is strong enough even without that connection.
Joint-winner of the Seizure Viva La Novella competition, this novella takes as inspiration the reference to a 'Malay trollop’ in W. Somerset Maugham’s story, ‘The Four Dutchmen’. In Riwoe’s story, that girl is Mina who leaves her village and the innocence of her mother’s home to work in the kitchen of a Dutch colonial. She takes with her the smell of the sea, and her batik sarong, which she must discard for the garb of a servant. Under the tutelage of the cook, Ibu Tana, she learns of strange foods, and strange ways, so when a boy from her village, Ajat, pays her attention she clings to him. But she is lost to the world of the village now. Property of her master, and therefore able to be passed on as chattel. So devastating in its imagery and simple emotion.
This novella first came to my attention when it was shortlisted for the Stella Prize in 2018. Although I wasn't familiar with the Maugham short story that inspired it, I read a sample of The Fish Girl and the luminous writing of Mirandi Riwoe drew me in straight away.
It's not a new idea to re-tell a story from the perspective of a different (often minor) character, but this was a particularly successful example for me. Mina, the young Indonesian girl, is such a sympathetic innocent that I was truly torn about whether to read The Four Dutchmen; how on earth could Mina be the 'Malay trollop' of Maugham's story? I wanted to read it to understand, but at the same time I didn't want to read it for the misogynistic slant I expected Maugham must have given it. More thoughts about the short story later.
In The Fish Girl, Mina is sent by her father to work for the Dutch Resident of Wijnkoopsbaai, a full day's walk away from their tiny village. She is to work in the kitchen and two young village men, Yati and Ajat, have also been sent to work in the stables. The Dutch Resident is by all accounts a kind and fair employer, but Mina is desperately lonely with nobody to talk to other than the houseboy, who is a few years younger than her. That changes when the Dutch Resident takes a shine to Mina and gives her more varied duties, including the household shopping, because it brings her into contact with Ajat on a regular basis. Her outings with Ajat become the highlight of her days.
Not until about the final third of the novella do the four dutchmen (Captain, Chief Officer, Chief Engineer and Supercargo) enter the story, as regular dinner guests of the Dutch Resident. Mina waits on them at dinner, and the Captain contrives to take lessons in Malay from Mina, in order to spend more time with her. She doesn't exactly like him but she enjoys the time they spend together, and he brings her lovely gifts! When Ajat breaks Mina's heart, she agrees to accompany the Captain on his next voyage, thinking it could lead to marriage and a more secure life. But off the coast of Nieuw Guinea everything goes wrong.
This was such a powerful, heartbreaking little story. Mina seemed to think she had some choices but she really didn't, and she was let down by so many of the dominant people in her life. I could feel the dread building, helped along by the revealing Maugham quotes at the beginning of each chapter, but there was still no way I was prepared for that explosive ending. In a way I was glad I didn't know what was coming. A fabulous little read.
********************* The Four Dutchmen I'd noticed a number of other reviewers had said it wasn't necessary to read The Four Dutchmen in order to get the full effect of The Fish Girl. On the whole, I agree. But personally I couldn't resist, and I found the story at the end of Maugham's Cosmopolitans. It's only short - maybe 20 pages. While Mina is not exactly a minor character, she is very much a background figure. To my relief, I found it wasn't as difficult to read as I'd feared. The parts of the story relevant to Mina are written in the style of third-party reportage, so what could have been a nasty, hate-filled little story has a certain amount of distance that kind of softens the edges a little. It's written in the language of the era though, so it's easy to identify the distasteful attitudes towards race, women, status more generally, etc. And while the ending tries to invoke a sense of light-heartedness (Maugham hopes the reader will find his stories 'amusing'!), it is not quite as dark as it might have been.
In fewer than one hundred pages of storytelling, Ms Riwoe creates a character who is now haunting me. Mina is an Indonesian girl living with her parents in a small fishing village. She is chosen by a Dutch merchant to work in his household. Mina did not want to leave home, but the decision is her father’s and she has no choice. Once she arrives, she works in the kitchen with Ibu Tana. One of the things that makes Mina’s new life more bearable is Ajat, the boy from her village who also works there. Mina longs to return to her village, to what is familiar.
‘The fish girl has brought the smell of the sea with her.’
Ms Riwoe brings Mina’s world to life, with her descriptions of food, of people, of the bustle of markets, and of the tropical weather. But while Mina may have the limited freedom to make some choices, her life is no longer her own. And choices often have unforeseen consequences. I find myself wondering whether (and how) Mina’s life could have been different once she left the fishing village.
This novella was a joint winner of the 2017 Seizure Viva La Novella Prize. It was sparked by the description of a ‘Malay Trollope’ in W. Somerset Maugham’s story ‘The Four Dutchmen.’
A jam-packed novella that hits hard. The writing was beautiful and sensuous despite the brevity of the story overall. It manages to build suspense, have twists and turns, love and fear and hate, all in under 100 pages.
A most beautiful novella. This was winner of The Seizure Viva La Novella Prize in 2017.Inspired by one of my favourite authors W Somerset Maugham and his story ‘ The Four Dutchman’.
I enjoyed this novella, in the way that it was affecting and packed a punch for such a slim volume. But it also made my blood boil to read about the treatment of a young and innocent Indonesian woman at the hands of men and colonialists. Based on the blurb on the back, this was inspired by W. Somerset Maugham’s ‘The Four Dutchmen’, and now I kind of want to read it, but also not sure I really want to - and yet certainly admiring of Mirandi Riwoe’s efforts here. No wonder it’s won a prize (the 2017 Seizure Viva La Novella prize). A short, yet accomplished and ‘complete’ work that managed to pack in suspense and hints of deeper themes, while making light work of the playing of my emotions while she’s at it. All the stars.
Also glad that this happens to fulfil Task 9: A book of colonial or postcolonial literature #readharder2018
Java. The Dutch rule. The local villages are basically slaves. A young girl finds herself working for a Dutch household and the whites are enchanted by her beauty. The writing tells of the girl's naivety, the men's abuse of power, the love she has of the sea and betrayal. All wrapped in a sensory of smells. This book won the Seizure Viva la Novella Prize which makes me want to read more from the winners of this prize.
A beautiful sensual tale, with an acute sense of place. You can effortlessly smell and taste Mina's world, while also sensing the wider world that shapes her life. The seeming simplicity of the story, spiced with charm and dread, lends it the moral weight of a fable. Very memorable, and highly recommended.
This novella was a pleasure to read. It is inspired by Somerset Maugham's story 'The Four Dutchmen'; and focuses on a young Indonesian girl called Mina, who is taken from her village one day to go work for a Dutch merchant.
The decision was made by her father because he wanted benefits of produce such as spices & tobacco that would come from his daughter's employment. Mina is heart broken and feels that the arrangement is punishment; she loves her simple life in the village, making nets and cleaning fish with her mother.
Her mother reassures her my using her affectionate name,"Tak-Tak' or 'Starfish' that she hasn't done anything wrong and so Mina leaves her village and begins work at the Dutch merchants.
This book is crafted with sensory and cultural eloquence. You immediately align with the innocence of Mina; the rudimentary use of language mingled with native words enhanced by descriptions that evoke taste and smell really transported me into Mina's world. This book does deal with the naivety of a young woman who is lured by love and objectified. The ending left me both angry and quietly hopeful in the fact that Mina had found peace. The story rounds in on itself beautifully, each piece meets so you see the frank reality, however Mina was made for another world and her heart wish is granted in the end.
This novella is a postcolonial rewrite and refocus of Somerset Maugham's "The Four Dutchmen" centred on the story of the minor tragic figure of the Malay girl. It is an evocative description of the landscape and the tragedy of a young woman, her choices and uses in the society. I suppose it could be argued that it treads some familiar territory of postcolonial literary fiction - description of delicious food, succulent fruit, bittersweet love and despair, a female character used, abused and betrayed at every turn. And yet it is still a perfect and beautifully told tragedy. I read Somerset Maugham's short story after this and was haunted by what Riwoe's work had done, it was all there really but flipped over and viewed from what seems now a very problematic distance of jolly white men broken and corrupted by the other - the exotic female. It is a useful pairing and highlights how much Riwoe has brought to the text.
This was incredible. Um, wow. I felt completely immersed in this story even though it's only a novella. It as just absolutely beautiful. I really hope this one makes it onto the longlist!
The Fish Girl by Mirandi Riwoe is a short, grim story about an Indonesian girl, Mina, whose life changes when her father sends her to work for a Dutch merchant.
And what will she wear? What is the town like? Who will she work with? She asks herself these questions, a tremor of excitement finally mingling with the dread in her stomach, making her feel pleasantly sick like when she eats too much sirsak, the sweetness of the custard apple curdling in her stomach.
The move from her sheltered, gentle life in a small fishing village to servitude in the merchant’s large house, exposes Mina to new feelings and new experiences, not all of which are welcome.
She smells the night air, searching for the salt of the sea on the evening breeze… It’s in these closing moments of each night, when she feels the ocean’s presence, Mina remembers who she is. But the memory has weight, sinks in her chest like a pebble in the sea. She misses her mother. She misses the silence of plaiting the netting with her, she misses their rhythm of scaling the fish.
From the outset, most readers will predict the tragedy that will befall Mina – her story is sadly familiar in colonial history. Riwoe delivers it with care, fine detail and a brutal ending that left me feeling horrified but not surprised.
Will it win the Stella Prize? I don’t think so – the fleeting experience of reading a novella isn’t quite enough against some of the other shortisted titles.
The Fish Girl was short listed for the 2018 Stella Prize, and deservedly so. The post-colonial novel takes the marginalised voice of the Malay girl in W. Somerset Maugham’s story, ‘The Four Dutchman’, and writes the story from her perspective. This is my favourite type of writing, which critiques notions of the literary canon, and is reminiscent of Jean Rhys’ novel, Wide Sargasso Sea. A beautiful, poignantly told novella.
This book is my favourite reads of the year so far. I picked it up to flick through and didn’t get up until I finished it. So beautifully written. The story has stayed with me and, even though I read it a while ago, I still think about it often. Quite haunting.
In a week where I’ve spent a significant amount of time thinking about colonialism, and the stories we tell about it, this was a timely read. Riwoe’s novella is a real achievement. Her prose is direct, and highly evocative of place. She captures the internal life of the Fish Girl- her hopes, dreams, fears, and concerns so concisely, but with such care. Although I haven’t read Maugham’s work- on which this is based, I imagine it would make an excellent companion read- much like Jane Eyre, to Wide Sargasso Sea. Either way, this certainly is framed as a story retold- in a very compelling and challenging way. The strength of this novella, is not the characters, or even the excellent sense of place, but the themes. This is truly a narrative of colonial exploitation- the isolation of indigenous minorities from their cultures and families, and the horrendous violence wrought upon them by the coloniser. Although this isn’t a new story, I found it nonetheless immensely confronting in the honesty with which this was presented.
Beautiful written this novella leaves you with a punch to the chest. I adored getting to see the Malya culture, I could feel the heat of the sun and hear the lap of the waves.
Mirandi Riwoe was joint-winner of the 2017 Seizure Viva La Novella prize in 2017 with her book, The fish girl – and it has now been shortlisted for this year’s Stella Prize. As you may already know, it was inspired by Somerset Maugham’s short story “The four Dutchmen”, which I reviewed a few days ago. Indeed, Maugham’s story provides the epigraphs to each of the novella’s three parts. Do you then need to have read Maugham’s story to appreciate Riwoe’s take? I’d say not – and would hate that assumption to put people off reading her book. Nonetheless, I’m glad I read Maugham’s work. How’s that for a foot in both camps? [...]
Riwoe tells her story in three acts, each preceded by epigraphs from Maugham’s story. In the first part, Mina is offered by her father to a man who comes searching for “cheap labour for the Dutch Resident’s kitchen.” The barely pubescent Mina doesn’t want to go, has never left home before, but for her parents, her father in particular, there is hope that she will be able to send them things they “need, like more spice and tobacco.” Mina is scared, but we also get an intimation of resilience when we’re told of the “tremor of excitement finally mingling with the dread in her stomach.” Maybe it will work out alright we hope.