A remarkable collection of speculative and absurdist fiction.” —Publishers Weekly, starred review
“Pasaribu is one of the most important Indonesian writers today.” —Litro Magazine
“A beautiful collection that refuses to shy away from the often complex and difficult queer experience… Parasibu’s is a promising new voice.” —Kirkus Reviews
“A perfect mix of surreal micro-fiction and thought-provoking narratives, Happy Stories, Mostly will stick with you for a long time.” —Bustle
“[Pasaribu] has found a way to construct something new out of tales of loss.” —The New York Times
“Immersive stories that make the impossible feel true.” —Words Without Borders
“Happy Stories, Mostly navigates queer suffering with a deep supply of tenderness and humour – and with empathy for all its characters.” —Exberliner Magazine
“An enticing collection, where the smallest pedestrian acts—such as finding a secret journal or getting a cubicle to work in—have the power to force characters to question their internalized biases.” —Asymptote Journal
“As a collection of stories that shine a spotlight on contemporary queer Indonesian life, the works within leave a deep, ruminating impression.” —International Examiner
“Exquisite… Tsao’s affinity for Pasaribu’s personality, literary tone, and rhythm beautifully illuminates Pasaribu’s ingenuity as an author.” —Asia Media International
“Cerebral, playful, abrasive yet tender—there are not enough adjectives to describe Happy Stories, Mostly. Every page crackles with energy in Tiffany Tsao’s brilliant translation. Norman Erikson Pasaribu takes risks big and small, and somehow, magically, lands them all.” —YZ Chin, author of Edge Case
Praise for Previous Work:
“Pasaribu tells a truth plain and human, stripped to reveal its strangeness, its absurdity, its pain. . . A quiet but rigid resistance against that world’s desire to maim the queer spirit." —Singapore Review of Books
“The book’s formal diversity, epigraphs, mixing of genres, signal to a medley of
traditions that cannot easily be explained as a singular poetry from the ‘margins.’ By referencing Indonesian writers like Wiji Thukul alongside Herta Müller and Richard Siken, Sergius Seeks Bacchus emerges not from the sidelines but from within the continuous and intertextual script of transnationalism.” —The Poetry Review
“Literally and metaphorically driven underground by unorthodox desires, Pasaribu’s primary stance is seeking; theirs is a restless questing as his cast of characters search for a shared history that is textually present but remains elusively out of reach.” —Mascara Literary Review
“A new and magical voice emerging in literature, yet one almost preternaturally wise, profoundly celebratory of the history and possibility of poetry.” —Christos Tsiolkas, author of The Slap and Damascus
2023-04-24
In intimate detail, Indonesian writer Pasaribu’s debut collection explores the way colonial violence and anti-queer prejudice permeate contemporary culture.
Looking through a queer lens, the reader is invited to witness the psychic damage done by heteronormativity and homophobia. As hinted in the title, the stories here see characters come close to finding happiness only to have it stolen from them, which Pasaribu positions as typical of queer life: “To almost get in, to be almost accepted, to be almost there, but, at the same time, to be not there/accepted/in.” In “So What’s Your Name, Sandra?” a mother travels from Jakarta to Mỹ Sơn, Quảng Nam, Vietnam, a place she found while googling the words my son following her own son’s suicide. While there, she’s forced to recognize her homophobia as the root of his despair. Similarly, in “Our Descendants Will Be as Numerous as the Clouds in the Sky,” Pasaribu introduces a mother who discovers that her insistence on grandchildren is the reason her son’s marriage is failing. Here, and throughout the collection, the heteronormative blueprint of marriage and children shatters the well-being of queer people. Religion features in every story, but Pasaribu’s adroit cynicism is realized most emphatically in “Welcome to the Department of Unanswered Prayers.” The protagonist embarks on a new job in heaven, but the work is revealed to be bureaucratic, soulless, dissatisfying: “Once you receive your quota of prayers for the day, and make sure the total corresponds to the total number of names on the register, all you have to do is file them in a binder.” God’s absence is also evident in “Ad maiorem dei gloriam.” Sister Tula, a retired nun, meets a bereaved father and son when she sneaks out of the convent, and this new relationship accentuates the loneliness of a life dedicated to a God with whom she feels no connection. Rendering characters with refreshing nuance and raw honesty, Pasaribu’s is a promising new voice.
A beautiful collection that refuses to shy away from the often complex and difficult queer experience.
