Karim bin Raslan

Kam Raslan: A Brief Biography

Kam Raslan is a writer and director, working in film, TV, and theater in Malaysia. He is a columnist in The Edge weekly and Off the Edge magazine. His writings were previously compiled in Generation: A Collection of Contemporary Malaysian Ideas. He also writes for the Instant Café Theatre and will one day make his own feature fim.


Confessions of An Old Boy – A Review.

Dato’ Hamid is an MCKK (Malay College Kuala Kangsar) Old Boy and a civil servant (of course) who believes that working with the civil service is a privilege. Having said that, I find him a lovable because he’s so darned funny. His dialogue and reminiscences take the reader on a trip through pre-independence Malaya and what is to come in the new Malaysia.
Frankly, I felt like I was reading about people I knew even though the good Dato’ Hamid is a fictional character!

Dato’ Hamid amusingly refers to his son as the Ayatollah, and says of him and his generation: “I don’t know where they came from and I don’t know where they’re taking us.” This is something I agree with completely – I have no idea where they’re taking us either.
One part is particularly telling in its familiarity: “He wants to act, look and dress just like all the others. When he and all his little Umno Youth friends are together, it reminds me of that ridiculous pleasure ride that my grandson insisted I go on in Disneyland.” And what’s that ride? It’s a Small World After All.

Having been surrounded by the Old Boy network for as long as I can remember, and being previously married to one, I found the MCKK references very apt, especially the part where Dato’ Hamid agonizes over taking money from a Chinese man to (gasp!) spy on an MCKK old boy. I truly felt for him, as he would have been screwed if the old boys found out. Why, even today, you’d be in serious trouble if you break the code and turn on any of your brothers.
I enjoyed the Ariff and Capitalism chapter where Ariff plans to get rich the quick and easy way – I’m convinced Kam is recounting a true story as it sounds ridiculous enough to be believable and I seem to remember hearing a variation of that story years ago. The chapter, Murder in Parit Chindai, is a bit too drawn out, but it made me think of several well known Hamzahs (spoilt, ageing Mummy’s boys), who are still tied to Mummy’s apron strings and clinging pathetically to the illusion of grandeur that used to be real when their family had money and a name. But after one generation of squandering the family fortunes, they refuse to work because they’re not used to it and believe that someone will “save them” because their father had “helped someone” years ago. Hello ... isn’t that just another day in Damansara Heights?

The last chapter, The Malayans, was the most insightful – if you don’t know anything about how Malaysia works, go straight to this chapter and get up to speed. It will tell you everything you need to know regarding the races, their quirks and their children. When Dato’ Hamid complains (again!) about the Ayatollah and says: “It’s such a horrible irony, London gave me a taste for tweed jackets but it gave my son a taste for overthrowing Shahs.”

This reminds me that Malaysia is still divided between these two schools of thought: Western culture vs. religious fanaticism. Well, you can find the answer in this novel.