Bang My Car by Ann Ang: Book Review
Cover of Bang My Car
When I was in junior high, Ann Ang, a former teacher and alumnus of River Valley High, came to our school to promote her book. Even though my memories of her presentation have become vague recollections, a significant question which she had asked the audience then still lingers in my mind:
“Do you think that it’s alright for us to use Singlish in books?”
I was your typical English puritan who gave a resounding “NO!” for an answer. During that time, I denounced Singlish as a disease Singaporeans were inflicted with – it was the main reason why we could not speak proper English, and that was something to be ashamed of. We were often proclaimed as a first-world country with a top-notch education system, but why was it that we still failed at speaking proper English?
Or so I thought.
A few years later and after deep introspection into my identity and culture, my opinion has flipped 180 degrees, and this time round, I can confidently say that yes, it is fine for us to use Singlish in books because it is an embodiment of our unique local culture and identity. Ann Ang’s Bang My Car is living proof of this.
In the book, Ang introduces us to the definition of what an “uncle” is – “a patriarch-like figure considered beyond the bounds of eligibility or attractiveness, whether married or unmarried.” These minute and precise deconstructions of our local culture and perceptions which we have taken for granted are littered throughout the book, and they are one of the main reasons why this book is so fascinating to read.
The book revolves around our protagonist, lovingly known as Uncle, and through his conversations, we uncover the various gems which manifest into Singaporean quirks – our kiasuism, competitive education system, tendency to follow everything by the book and our fears for the future. It is unsurprising that Singaporeans are generally paranoid of the unknown, what with our shaky start in nation-building and lack of geographical and economic prowess. This mentality is clearly exemplified in the conversation below:
“Why you scared? Why you scared do everything wrong? Everything scared die?”
I cannot die. If I die, no one will pay for the house and the car instalments. If I break a leg, someone may take my place at the accounting firm. Not that my wife doesn’t work, but this is an expensive world to live in. Katie needs to go to university.
It is often difficult to flesh out what makes Singaporeans Singaporean. It is easy to distill these traits into cold, cutting adjectives such as “pragmatic”, “utilitarian” and “future-oriented”. What Ang expertly does is to show us the humane side to these descriptive words and the driving factors behind them which all of us can relate to, through the art of Singlish.
Through the various lenses in which the chapters are written – Uncle’s conversations, newspaper format, a university admission essay and interviews – we are drawn into a fragmented world which ultimately conceptualises the Singaporean identity. It is through these expert and slightly satirical deconstructions that we are able to discover what makes us us.