Medusa in Singapore: Review of "The Gatekeeper"
- Michelle Chiang
- 15 Oct 2017
- 7 min read
The award-winning The Gatekeeper by Nuraliah Norasid is set in Manticura, a fictional country embroiled in volatile political relations with its neighbours. It is dominated by a human majority which merely tolerated the minority species (often scaly and large humanoids of different shapes, hues and sizes). Many who could not survive on the surface turn to a secret ancient refuge underground, Nelroote. When the protagonist Ria, Medusa’s distant descendant, turned an entire village of people into stone, it is here where she and her sister Barani escape to.
After fifty years in hiding, she remains a wanted criminal on the surface and one whom the underground community fears. One fateful afternoon, she meets a privileged half-human boy Eedric and a relationship between them develops as rapidly as it is crushed. At this point, the author seems to have resolutely severed the possibility for a reader to interpret the novel as a coming-of-age story.
As the narrative descends into chaos, what readers are left with are Ria’s madness and rage: raw emotions of stunted growth. ‘Stunted’ is the word that may come to mind as readers grapple with the novel’s setting in a far future and an apparent lack of social and human progress. Discrimination of those who are perceived to be different or weaker, marginalisation by the majority, elitism, and sexism are key features of the Manticuran society.
Interestingly, more than 3,000 years into the future, there is also little progress in technology and beliefs. Instead, the underground community in the novel reverts to ancient burial rituals which Ria is tasked with as she retreats from a community of outcasts that regard her in both fear and awe. Inheriting the solitude of the mythic Medusa, she spends time alone in a catacomb filled with stone statues of unsuspecting invaders. She is portrayed effectively as an outcast of a community which has itself fallen through the cracks of society.
Indeed, one of the novel’s strengths comes from the creative effort which the author has poured into world-making. The intricacy of Nuraliah’s world creation is already hinted at by the illustrated maps included in the novel, but this becomes more apparent when we are introduced to the complex interweaving of fictional and non-fictional languages in Manticura, then arrive at a seedy underbelly beneath the underground community – an underworld within an under-world.