This was a thoroughly enjoyable book full of interesting juxtapositions, images and ideas. On the one hand, it is a careering journey through a world of mobsters, whores, truck stops, extortion, hitmen, vengeance killings, fights and gangs. The atmosphere created is similar to a very violent cartoon or the sinister stylisations of a Tarantino movie. The prose and structure are simple and staccato. The story is told in snatches; sometimes a couple of lines of conversation, other times a more extended retelling of a series of events. The cast of characters is limited and the overwhelming focus is on the impotent hero Ajo Kawir. The disconnected paragraphs jump around geographically and chronologically and while this is never confusing sometimes it was a bit disjointed.
The book also had a funny, absurd side with Ajo constantly pulling down his trousers to consult his penis in front of other people, angry exchanges between posturing protagonists and pulse raising games of chicken in trucks at the dead of night. However, the book was far from superficial and also dealt with some weighty themes without ever becoming self conscious or explicit in examining them. I thought this was a significant achievement and the best aspect of the book.
Amongst other things, it was a commentary on corruption and authority in Indonesia and portrayed evocative scenes from this lush, lawless land. The roles sex and violence play in growing up and shaping definitions of masculinity were also integral to its story. The mercurial natures of sexual desire, love, fidelity and anger also played an important part in the story. At times, the relentless, gory violence was overbearing but it found a counterpoint in Kawir’s transformation and ability to philosophise and reconcile himself to his life. I found myself impressed by his cool simplicity and dedication to his chosen path. He’s in some senses stoic but also allows his emotions room to evolve and change. He is dispassionate but not, ultimately, to a sociopathic and destructive extent degree that he is at the beginning of the book. These attempts at extreme dispassion only end up in angry demonstrations of a different kind of passion, as the story shows. I felt I could sympathise with the raw, uncontrollable desires that many of the characters portray but was far more impressed and interested in Ajo’s ability to overcome them. This may be a matter time and experience, exemplified by the relationship between Ajo and Mono and the differences between them. While Mono is taking his first steps in his career as a tough guy, Ajo is retiring from his. It could also be more to do with the interplay between chance, circumstance and disposition which is expressed in the different actions Ajo and his wife take at the end of the book. One settles down to raise a child that isn’t his while the other goes out to seek revenge that isn’t hers. The chance appearance of Jelita in Ajo’s truck and the role she plays in his recovery of his erection also seem to point to the fact that large portions of what happen to us may be outside of out control. This kind of determinism also has a physical expression through Ajo’s penis, his consultations with it and his eventual acceptance of his powerlessness.
In the end, I found the book reassuring and reflective. In a world full of dark, traumatic experiences and savage abuses it is still possible to navigate, however circuitously, towards peace and acceptance. The book makes this point in an unromanticized, unsentimental way. Even though many of the scenes and people featured fall firmly in the category of caricature it ended up feeling far more profound and meaningful than I could have imagined when I began.
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