Jemimah Wei On Finding Early Success And The Future Of Singapore Literature
Overseas book deals, international awards, even film rights – if these are the markers of success in the literary world, then the local writing scene has hit a new peak, led by a younger generation of authors penning their own diverse takes on the Singapore story. Pandemic‑revived bibliophile Cherry Tan gets four of the most exciting new names on the scene to share a peek into their inner lives and thoughts about this new chapter in SingLit.
Ten years in the making, the 32‑year‑old’s debut novel The Original Daughter has already earned serious international buzz since hitting shelves some two months ago. It has already been named a New York Times Editor’s Pick, for example, and featured in the Good Morning America Book Club – an impressive feat for a first‑time author.
The novel follows two sisters – Genevieve and Arin, who’s adopted – as their relationship begins to fracture. At its heart, it’s a story about girlhood, ambition and the competitive pressures of Singapore’s education system, told with clarity, precision and an emotional undercurrent that lingers long after the final page. I’ve reread it three times and each time, it hits just as hard.
Despite the whirlwind success, Wei keeps her feet firmly on the ground, protecting her 9‑to‑6 writing schedule while balancing interviews, teaching responsibilities and a growing book tour. Her idea of achievement – ironically, but perhaps not surprisingly – is writing a book that she’s proud of. (PS She’s already working on the next one.)
IN THE ORIGINAL DAUGHTER, YOU DESCRIBED SINGAPORE’S EDUCATION SYSTEM AS “ACADEMIC TERROR”. HOW DID THIS INTENSE BACKDROP SHAPE THE CHARACTERS’ EMOTIONAL LANDSCAPES?
“Each character feels deeply the distance between the lif they have, and the vast array of unlived alternate realities and possibilities that might subsume their current reality if even one different choice were made. Because of the years this book spans, it would have been impossible to write a bildungsroman in Singapore without touching on school pressures. How this manifests in each character’s approach to the narrowing possibilities of success, though, is different.”
A peek into the writing life of Jemimah Wei, who’s currently on a world tour to promote her book The Original Daughter, which looks at the impact of the Singapore education system on the self: Art gallery visits offer relaxation while hard‑boiled eggs provide sustenance.
WHAT WOULD YOU SAY TO YOUNGER READERS WHO ARE CAUGHT IN THE ACADEMIC SYSTEM THAT YOU WRITE ABOUT IN THE ORIGINAL DAUGHTER?
“I sometimes think of the novel as an acknowledgement of the lived reality of a specific shared experience of Singapore schoolchildren: an experience that everyone says you’ll grow out of; that adults seem to have forgotten or suppressed once they’re past it; an experience that’s framed as a stepping stone that’ll be worth it in some vague future, all of which is infuriating for someone who’s going through the painful motions of a pressure‑cooker school system to hear. Nothing I say to younger Singaporeans can make their reality better. The only thing I can say is that what you’re going through is real and not forgotten. I’m reflecting it back to you in print.”
There’s a marked difference between being a writer and being one that thrives, she says. “Between a writer who has published three books of unvaried vision and a writer who has not yet published but is steadily and boldly developing in form, vision and ambition, who would you say is thriving?”
SINGAPORE LITERATURE HAS OFTEN WRESTLED WITH QUESTIONS OF NATIONAL IDENTITY, MULTICULTURALISM AND BELONGING. DO YOU THINK THAT’S STILL CENTRAL TO YOUNGER WRITERS?
“It seems restrictive to paint Singapore literature with the broad stroke of a theme. What makes SingLit to me is the author being Singaporean, or having a lived reality in Singapore. But if a Singaporean wrote a high fantasy novel set in a made‑up land, I’d still consider the work Singapore literature because of its sensibility and authorship. That’s just my take. To say that SingLit deals with themes of XX or YY feels like we’re casting the literature of a nation in dialogue with a global publishing majority … As I was working on my novel, I wasn’t thinking about belonging or national identity … I was thinking of and deeply interested in what a specific relationship would look like when put under pressure, and how love could endure those frictions.”
DO YOU THINK THERE’S ENOUGH SUPPORT FOR EMERGING WRITERS IN SINGAPORE?
“Every writer is so different, and there’s no one path towards authorship or articulating one’s artistic vision. I do think there’s more information and resources available now to a young writer who’s trying to figure out how to build a writing life. But to accurately answer your question, I think we need to first question what it actually means to thrive as a writer. For me, the end goal for a writer is not necessarily to publish a book as soon as possible. It might be to write the best book you possibly can. It’s so common to see writers publish before they’re ready, but external milestones don’t necessarily follow the same timeline as artistic growth. I think this is something that can be challenging for someone who has grown up in a Singaporean system of milestones and KPIs (key performance indicators) to confront. Between a writer who has published three books of unvaried vision and a writer who has not yet published but is steadily and boldly developing in form, vision and ambition, who would you say is thriving?”
WHAT ARE SOME WAYS IN WHICH EMERGING WRITERS HERE CAN GET MORE SUPPORT?
“What I think is particularly interesting about Singapore’s system is that there are these grants that support the different stages of the creation and publishing process and that are proposal‑based, so it’s up to the artist to frame the project to the funding board. This means that one needs to think about a project’s externally perceived viability earlier than usual, which might mean less freedom for experimentation. At the same time, this has spawned a practice of young Singapore writers taking regional promotion into their own hands, banding together to pitch literary festivals and apply for grant funding for travel and to bring their work to new audiences. The collaboration and ground‑up initiative are really great to see … If we can dream though, I’d love to see a programme that affords artists a universal basic income to work on their long‑term projects. One such programme just launched in Ireland, actually. Artists need money to live, and art takes a long time. If we see art as a public good, then artists have to be supported in the conception process and not celebrated only after they’ve succeeded.”
ALL INTERVIEWS HAVE BEEN EDITED FOR CLARITY AND BREVITY.