Author: Nh. Dini
Length: 423 pages
ISBN# 979-22-0303-6
Gramedia Pustaka Utama 2005
Dari Parangakik ke Kampuchea is a memoir of a French
consular’s wife that took place after Jepun Negerinya Hiroko’s time frame. It
is opened by an “abstract” that tells the gist of the whole book. The narration
style is slightly more poetic and emotional than the two previous memoirs,
despite that Dini admitted that she spent her early days in this memoir’s
period in apathetic mood. Under Yves’ presence, Dini mostly let the days passed
by all of its imperfections without trying to make them better. The gradual
change in her relationship with her husband is shown in how she gradually
refers her husband as “my husband”, “Lintang’s father”, even “the husband” and “Mr.
Consular” more than using his name, compared to the previous two memoirs. The
poetic mood may be due to the presence of a captain that will have a significant
role in Dini’s life for the next three memoirs.
After a touristy trip to Greece, Italy and Rome, Dini and
her husband stayed in an apartment in Versailles until Yves got appointed as
the French consulate in Cambodia (formerly known as Kampuchea, hence this
memoir’s title). The great deal on the cheap apartment turned out to be a
small, humid “apartment” that used to be a storeroom. The worse thing was that
they had to endure the coldest winter in the past 40 years in such inconvenient
apartment. Dini had to struggle with the modest living and stingy husband for
almost a year, in contrast to her convenient lifestyle in Japan. Thankfully,
there was her beautiful daughter, Lintang, and a visit of her old friends,
Francis and Anis, that helped her survive the tough time in France. When Yves
finally got a job in Cambodia, Dini and Lintang was scheduled to travel by ship
while the husband arrived early to settle their living arrangement in Cambodia.
As usual, Dini’s sociability got her acquainted with a few passengers in the
ship, including the captain that would put butterflies in her stomach. Her life
in Cambodia was not just all about dealing with her difficult husband. Besides getting
busy with all the consular’s household chores, she spent her days taking care
of her daughter, contributing in Women’s International Club, and spent some
time with the captain.
Like the previous memoir, the book contains tons of
descriptions of the places Dini stayed in. There were also a bit more
explanations on the historical background of those places, but mostly not on the
events that were going on. An exception would be on what was going on in
Cambodia under Norodom Sihanouk’s leadership in the 1960s, when Cambodia went
through an impressive development progress after the World War II. Many
reviewers on Goodreads praised her vibrant descriptions of the places and food
Dini experienced in this memoir’s time frame. Her description on her living
arrangement in Cambodia reminds me of an American consular’s place where my
former employer once held an event. That brought such happy memory of my own experience,
which is nice.
On the technical side, this book is noticeably thicker and
text-heavier compared to the previous two memoirs. The font is also noticeably
smaller to pack more words in a page. One thing that bugged me besides Yves’
hellish behavior is that Dini often uses the expression “...X, dengan siapa
aku...” and “...Z, siapa yang...” like the direct, Google Translate-ish
translation of “...X, with whom I...” and “...Z, who was...”. If I am not
familiar with English grammar and structure, I would be confused with the text,
as Bahasa Indonesia noes not normally work that way.
After reading three memoirs of Nh. Dini from the beginning of her adulthood as a stewardess, I have been thinking a lot of her and her
family. I thought about how an impressive, well-disciplined working woman like
her had to suffer under an unexpectedly unhappy marriage. Her husband once saw
her as an intelligent lady, but as they embarked on marriage life, he started
to limit her intellectual activities such as reading and writing. He even limited
her writing because he perceived it as a non-productive activity that could not
be monetized. And when Dini started to paint, he cynically whine on how art
supplies are so expensive while her new hobby was seen as yet another
non-productive one. As a reader; blogger; and crafter, I personally felt so sad for her and angry to her husband. While
many readers judged her negatively because of her not being faithful in this
memoir and the next three memoirs, I sympathize her pain and longing for a
genuine relationship that respects and appreciates each other. It is very
unfortunate for her, though thankfully she still managed to sneak her writing
time out of Yves’ notice. Thanks to that, now that her books have been
published and able to be read by many. In addition, she may also be enjoying
the health benefits of those intellectual activities, despite that she still
has to struggle with her vertigo nowadays.
I also thought a lot about her relationship with her children
in the present. How is their relationship nowadays? How is Lintang doing at the
moment? That may will be answered in her latest memoirs, which I have not read
yet. Maybe not. She must be proud of her son, but is she actually? How she has
to struggle with her financial condition, while her son must be enjoying his
fruits of labor? I also found out how her son was born when I read the synopsis
of the next memoir that took place after this one, Dari Fontenay ke Magallianes. I will not spoil on that to you as much as I was spoiled by many
reviewers of her next memoirs (!!!), but I found that deeply saddening.
I had quite a hard time to finish reading this book, but
that is just because a few parts of it felt emotional for me. Overall, I would
recommend this book, especially to people who are about to read her next three
memoirs: Dari Fontenay Ke Magallianes, La Grande Borne, and Argenteuil. This
book will explain a lot of things you may will question in those three memoirs,
especially those moral questions concerning her marriage and faithfulness to
her husband. I do not have the next memoir yet and it is currently hard to find
as I am writing this, but I have a few more memoirs of hers that are not in
chronological order. However, as you may have already implied, I am having a
kind of hangover after reading three of her memoirs consecutively. I plan to take a break from reading her books
for a while, and continue with reading another Indonesian literary author’s
work after this.
This review is an entry for 100 Hari Membaca Sastra Indonesia by lustandcoffee.
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