The Frangipani Tree Mystery by Ovidia Yu
I love reading mysteries set in faraway places, so I can learn about them. Singapore writer Ovidia Yu set this mystery in 1936. Su Lin is a smart and intrepid sixteen-year-old girl with great ambitions. Undeterred by the racist attitudes of her employers or the controlling tendencies of her family, she uses her mission school education and her ability to speak the local languages as leverage to move toward her goals, and she doesn't let a limp from a bout with polio stop her.
The first-person voice of the protagonist is often tinged with humour and irony. On learning that the murder victim is not much older than she is, Su Lin reflects that death is "no respector of life expectancy." At the sight of the body, she manages to avoid swooning "like women in English novels."
However, she still hedges her religious bets. Reasoning that "the Christian God likes money" while "Buddhist and Taoist gods prefer incense," she promises both a tithe and "a dozen joss sticks" accordingly, as she dispatches "fervent prayers to God or Guan Yin."
Our protagonist is astute. Reflecting on the family who raised her after she was orphaned, Su Lin comments that "Uncle Chen wanted so much to be seen as powerful and capable that he refused to ask for help from anyone." Her grandmother, on the other hand, asks others to do everything whenever possible, and is therefore "a good deal more powerful."
Su Lin also understands the racial politics of the island enough to understand that Charity, who at home was "only a poor Irish girl," was promoted in Singapore to "White," and as a single woman, was suddenly in demand. Sir Henry, the acting governor, is a stereotype of his kind. Though his talk doesn't surprise Su Lin, it totally shocks the honest police officer to hear that "Coolies are regularly taken and eaten from plantations," by tigers, suggesting that this goes unreported and virtually unremarked among the white colonizers.
As the story gallops along, Yu unveils a steady stream of fascinating details about the geography of the island, as well as its socio-cultural history. Le Froy's sergeant follows Sir Henry's locally born son to determine if he's "seeing someone," and reports back that "if she's white, she's not single, and if she's single, she's not white."
We learn a bit about Singapore cuisine, indentured laborers, the opium trade and "dhobi itch," a discomfort caused by the hot and muggy climate. We are told that a connection was made (and suppressed) about tobacco and lung cancer, and about how Siam ceded certain sultanates to the British without consulting the local rulers.
Inevitably, Su Lin faces danger. In one scene, she must she defend herself against unwanted amatory advances. For this she uses a handy paperweight and letter opener, reflecting as she does so that "Perhaps no girl had ever fended him off before, certainly not with his own stationery supplies." Naturally, her cleverness inspires the notice and the respect of the police inspector, Le Froy, and... Well, you know the tropes.
The first-person voice of the protagonist is often tinged with humour and irony. On learning that the murder victim is not much older than she is, Su Lin reflects that death is "no respector of life expectancy." At the sight of the body, she manages to avoid swooning "like women in English novels."
However, she still hedges her religious bets. Reasoning that "the Christian God likes money" while "Buddhist and Taoist gods prefer incense," she promises both a tithe and "a dozen joss sticks" accordingly, as she dispatches "fervent prayers to God or Guan Yin."
Our protagonist is astute. Reflecting on the family who raised her after she was orphaned, Su Lin comments that "Uncle Chen wanted so much to be seen as powerful and capable that he refused to ask for help from anyone." Her grandmother, on the other hand, asks others to do everything whenever possible, and is therefore "a good deal more powerful."
Su Lin also understands the racial politics of the island enough to understand that Charity, who at home was "only a poor Irish girl," was promoted in Singapore to "White," and as a single woman, was suddenly in demand. Sir Henry, the acting governor, is a stereotype of his kind. Though his talk doesn't surprise Su Lin, it totally shocks the honest police officer to hear that "Coolies are regularly taken and eaten from plantations," by tigers, suggesting that this goes unreported and virtually unremarked among the white colonizers.
As the story gallops along, Yu unveils a steady stream of fascinating details about the geography of the island, as well as its socio-cultural history. Le Froy's sergeant follows Sir Henry's locally born son to determine if he's "seeing someone," and reports back that "if she's white, she's not single, and if she's single, she's not white."
We learn a bit about Singapore cuisine, indentured laborers, the opium trade and "dhobi itch," a discomfort caused by the hot and muggy climate. We are told that a connection was made (and suppressed) about tobacco and lung cancer, and about how Siam ceded certain sultanates to the British without consulting the local rulers.
Inevitably, Su Lin faces danger. In one scene, she must she defend herself against unwanted amatory advances. For this she uses a handy paperweight and letter opener, reflecting as she does so that "Perhaps no girl had ever fended him off before, certainly not with his own stationery supplies." Naturally, her cleverness inspires the notice and the respect of the police inspector, Le Froy, and... Well, you know the tropes.