To the uninitiated, the tears that Nuraliah Norasid shed, upon being announced as the winner of the Epigram Books Fiction Prize on 24 November 2016, were simply for the joy of clinching the $25,000 award — the richest literary award, and the only one dedicated to the novel genre in Singapore thus far. The tears were in fact bittersweet as Nuraliah knew the submissions from the other finalists were no less impressive, ranging in scope and theme from critiques of political systems to complex personal and internal relationships, and the questioning of life through the breakage of time and space continuums.

Novelists can be generally known as experimental creative thinkers who write with a mission, be it in the “art for art’s sake” or the “art for community” fraternities. Getting their stories published open up the opportunity for an issue close to their hearts to be heard and addressed. This is primarily what motivated Nuraliah to devote six years to her first novel – undertaking research, building a world that possesses a strange familiarity with the Malayan and Singaporean realities, and developing a plot peopled by multi-layered characters.

NOVELS AND SOCIAL REALITIES
Novels have often been viewed as an “airy-fairy” fantasy created solely from figments of the writer’s imagination, with the aim of reader entertainment and escapism. While this is true to some extent, novels, as the CEO of Epigram Books, Mr Edmund Wee, said, are “the last place in which alternative views can be heard”. This goes to show that the value of the novel lies in its ability to examine and discuss various pertinent issues in both a vast range of topics and a medium that is far more accessible than the average academic paper.

The young girl in Nuraliah’s manuscript, The Gatekeeper, with her Medusa-like powers to mimic at the division between memory and state memorialisation is actually part of the magical realism characterising the story, aimed at making existing realities more jarring than if a very familiar picture had been painted. The entire world of the The Gatekeeper was developed from her observations of marginalised groups and her research into the historical precedence that when coupled with social policies were perpetuating their disadvantaged positions in society. Beyond that, the instances of her protagonist’s isolation, the poverty and violence that permeated the novel were derived from her own experiences growing up in what she called “the rough side of town”.

The humanistic motivations underpinning The Gatekeeper are also the bedrock of many other novels that have achieved international acclaim. For example, Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye, set in the 1960s at the height of the African-American civil rights movement, tells the story of how its black characters have internalised stereotypes promulgated through mediums such as media, movies, books, myths and advertising, succumbing to the caricaturisation by the dominant whites. Thus, a young girl’s wish, more than anything else, was a pair of blue eyes in response to the self-hatred fuelled by her social circumstances.

Books falling within the fantasy or science fiction genres may be very distinct from the realism of Morrison’s works. However, their critical value need not be diminished by what is considered a more ‘removed from reality’ approach. A prevalent trend in young adult fiction is that of survival in dystopian or post-apocalyptic world where disease, war, climate change or widening class divides have taken their toll, as evident in the Hunger Games and Divergent series. These gain massive followings among the young, echoing the pessimistic views they hold of their future, which emanate largely from the gloomy economic and environmental forecasts, as well as the apparently growing divisiveness of their societies.

THE NOVELIST
Novelists are astute observers and empathisers, allowing them to unpack the nuances of a phenomenon, portray a person or scenario vividly, decipher the meanings of an experience or be perceptive towards developments in their societies. With these qualities, they are able to piece together, for instance, mannerisms, peculiarities, habits, beliefs, influences, worldviews et cetera to create a believable character, even if the character does not exist within their immediate social reality.

Novelists are capable of projecting plausible future scenarios. The revelations of Edward Snowden, a former intelligence officer who leaked information on the United States’ surveillance operations is resonant of George Orwell’s 1949 novel, 1984, a dystopian science fiction which tells the story of official deception, secret surveillance and manipulation of recorded history.

Novelists can also offer thought-provoking social critiques. Author Hillary Mantel, who twice won the prestigious Man Booker Prize, sparked a robust debate when she shared her observation of Duchess of Cambridge, Kate Middleton’s public portrayal as being removed of individual personality and more of a “shop-window mannequin”.

NOVELS, POLICIES AND THE COMMUNITY
Do novels have a role in the more serious aspects of life, such as policymaking? Very often, reports from evidence-based studies or investigations and statistics, are regarded the most effective tools for formulating informed policies. This is adequate only if the world is not made up of complex systems that are interacting and actors that behave in unpredictable ways. A research on poverty experienced by a household, for example, will not help to understand the struggles of the low-income if what it generates are numerical data but not stories.

Novels can be considered thought experiments as fiction provides writers with the space to explore or speculate possible outcomes to social changes and policies that a scientific research tend to constrain. Stories, too, possess the unique quality of being able to present an enriched account of the human emotions involved in the issues we see, allowing the reader to experience the life of another.

The Malay/Muslim community is not short of novelists, among whom are Singaporean literary giants such as Isa Kamari and Suratman Markasan. Malay literature, arguably, has been instrumental in telling the ‘Malay story’ as it touches on issues of Malay identity, the community’s existence within the Singaporean reality and how religion tended to mediate the identity of the Malays within a multicultural society. The work of Malay writers has also related the social realities of the Malays in ways more compelling than that of non-fiction accounts.

On a more poignant note, despite the explorative and intricate nature of Malay novels and the delicate and complex issues that they have delved into, there is little recognition accorded to the contribution that Malay novels have made to the community. There was hardly any major initiative undertaken by Malay/Muslim organisations to continue nurturing Malay arts and literature. Much of the support to date has come from outside of the community, such as the Singapore Writers’ Festival showcasing the works of Malay writers.

THE FUTURE OF NOVELS
On the question of whether novels have a future, Nuraliah is optimistic. The literacy levels in Singapore are rising and this could translate into a good market for novels. The first round of the Epigram book prize saw 1,000 copies of the winning publication selling out within the first few months of release. Epigram upped last year’s awards to $40,000 in response to the quality of submissions it received in its inaugural event in 2015. Nuraliah is however less sanguine about the prospects of novels flourishing in the Malay/Muslim community, citing its socioeconomic predicament, which makes writing a venture too costly for individuals to pursue; and the unlikelihood of support coming from Malay/Muslim institutions to promising writers as resources get channelled to pursuits adjudged to be more socioeconomically beneficial. ⬛

Abdul Shariff Aboo Kassim is a Researcher / Projects Coordinator with the Centre for Research on Islamic and Malay Affairs (RIMA), the research subsidiary of AMP.