We, the Survivors by Tash Aw, is one of the books I discovered in the first term of my Creative Writing class. I initially picked this book out of curiosity because it was mentioned at a seminar that the author, Tash Aw, is an alumnus of my Creative Writing program. Then I read the opening.
“You want me to talk about life, but all I’ve talked about is failure, as if they’re the same thing, or at least so closely entwined that I can’t separate the two—like the trees you see growing in the half-ruined buildings in the Old Town.”
This very poignant opening paragraph creatively and immersively illustrates the protagonist’s internal struggle and introduces readers to immediate tension, setting the tone for the story, themes, and expectations.
We, the Survivors, discusses themes of class disparity, migration, and the human condition in contemporary Malaysia.
The narrative centers on Ah Hock, a man from a modest fishing village whose life takes a tragic turn, leading to the murder of a migrant worker.
The novel’s structure is particularly noteworthy. It unfolds through a series of interviews between Ah Hock and Su Min, a US-educated writer and researcher pursuing a doctorate in sociology.
Su Min returns to Malaysia to conduct field research, which includes interviewing Ah Hock about his life and the events leading up to his crime.
This conversational style provides an intimate glimpse into Ah Hock’s psyche, effectively conveying his reflections and justifications.
While the novel is not a conventional "serial killer" story, its exploration into the psychology of Ah Hock, who commits a single, shocking act of violence, fueled one of my hidden obsessions (and a topic of interest to many), the psychology of serial killers.
As Ah Hock gives his accounts, the questions of culpability, morality and the factors that drive a person to commit such acts are raised. These questions, you will agree, are similar to the kind of introspection often found in true crime and serial killer stories.
Another noteworthy factor about this novel is the seamless transitions between past and present events. These transitions enrich the storytelling, offering a comprehensive understanding of the circumstances that shaped Ah Hock’s actions. But that is beside the point.
It is how Tash Aw seamlessly does this and yet does not lose the reader. Even while in the narrative past, he manages to follow different story threads, which, in themselves, transition between pasts.
Also, the choice to insert shorter chapters of the narrative present was spot on. Ah Hock’s present interactions with Su Min contributed to my appreciation of the structure. It might not be new or the first to be done, but it was a brilliant choice for this novel.
Also, I like how almost everything connects, in a full circle, in this novel. There is no single element in the book that is introduced or mentioned that does not have a purpose. Each detail contributes to the overarching story. At some point, I smiled and said, “Chekov would be proud." The deliberate commitment to the narrative economy is commendable.
Lastly, Tash Aw’s deliberate choice to incorporate foreign languages (mostly Malay) without translation intrigued me.
Coincidentally, while reading this book, I was at the bridge of confusion regarding using local language in my prose, the need to translate for a global audience, and how to navigate that (especially if you are not keen on translating these words). Tash Aw does it boldly and creatively.
This technique adds authenticity to the narrative, immersing readers in Malaysia’s multicultural landscape. It underscores the complexities and cultural nuances of the book's setting.
Critics have lauded We, the Survivors, for its sharp social commentary and emotional resonance, and by the end of the last chapter, you'll see why.
If you’re a fan of thought-provoking literature that blends sharp social commentary with a deeply human story, I highly recommend We, the Survivors by Tash Aw.
