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A novel written by a Belarusian and translated into Scots and English was at first glance an odd choice for our book club in Singapore. Not all of us would say this was an enjoyable book, but it was certainly one worth reading. We found the language thorny and alienating, some struggling to complete the book. However, each chapter brought the unfamiliar closer and by the end of the book there was less of a recoil from what was difficult and more playfulness in approaching it. 

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What surprised us was how close to home the issue of language was. Singapore is a country with a great mixture of races, the majority of which are ethnically Chinese, as well as people of Malay and Indian ancestry. However, the dominant tongue spoken on the street, in schools, and workplaces is English, a hangover of Singapore's colonisation by the British in 1819 and a pragmatic economic decision by the government in newly independent Singapore in 1965, or Singlish, a mixture of English and Chinese dialects, Indian languages and Malay, with its own unique pronunciations, tones etc.

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In 1999, the "Speak Good English" campaign was launched, aiming to counter the unique 'creole' that is spoken here: Singlish. Prime Minister Goh Chok Tong, who launched the campaign, described Singlish as "English corrupted by Singaporeans". Today, all of our group, despite having diverse ethnic backgrounds (White (British)-Chinese, Chinese, Korean-Chinese) all think in English, and speak English without Singlish intonations (unless deliberately putting it on). Except for one of us, we are not fluent our mother tongues in the way we are in English - we certainly don't think in them.

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We were asking questions about what it means to 'own' a language, or 'belong' to it? Should languages be preserved or allowed to morph and change and even fade with the passage of time and the movement of people?

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With that in mind, this book brought our discussion to a conceptual and philosophical level. We were asking questions about what it means to 'own' a language, or 'belong' to it? Should languages be preserved or allowed to morph and change and even fade with the passage of time and the movement of people? We recognised in both the Doctor and "Faither" a rigidity about language that rendered it distasteful and unnatural, and that both used language against its function - to connect people - and that rigidity being what the children (we think) were fleeing from.

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One of our members suggested that instead of a translation, the Scotland Street Press edition of Alindarka’s Children be called a transcreation. This came out of a discussion about how language cannot be separated from culture and the book, suffused as it was with Robert Burns poetry etc., was in essence a Scottish book and not a Belarusian one.

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Words provided by book club member, Miriam Yeo.

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