Three new books by Singaporean authors explore sisterhood from the elder sibling’s vantage point. Image credits:The Original Daughter courtesy of Weidenfeld & Nicolson, The Story Game courtesy of Faction Press; and Sister Snake courtesy of HarperCollins
Eldest sisterhood, as written by Singaporean daughters
Protector, surrogate parent, role model: is there anything an eldest daughter can’t do? Cherry Tan reads three new Singaporean books that examine sisterhood and daughterhood—Sister Snake, The Original Daughter, and The Story Game—and considers how eldest daughters might (re)write their own story.
In preparation for this essay, I asked my three younger siblings for their strongest memory of me growing up. The immediate response? “Arm-twisting.”
When we were children, I’d literally twist my sisters’ arms—never hard enough to actually injure anyone, I promise—if they did not follow my parents’ instructions (or mine). My brother, the youngest child, shrugged. “You take responsibility for a lot of things,” went his offhand interpretation of my minor abuses of power.
This, for me, perfectly encapsulates the experience of being an eldest daughter. She’s a demi-maternal figure who protects her younger siblings, shows them the way and, occasionally, strong-arms them into submission.
Duh, as in, why did I even have to ask? Screenshot shared by Cherry Tan
Much has been said about the “eldest daughter syndrome” in popular discourse, describing a set of recurring behaviours and burdens faced by eldest daughters across families and cultures. The Straits Times called it an “invisible ailment”. Some familiar scenarios: being tasked with childcare, mediating conflict, or setting an example for younger siblings.
For subscribers only
Subscribe now to read this post and also gain access to Jom’s full library of content.
A production of breathtaking ambition and riveting quality, “Secondary: The Musical” lifts the curtain on the toll our education system takes on teachers and students alike.
Jom’s arts editor wanders through Yee I-Lann’s stunning survey show at the Singapore Art Museum. The Sabahan artist may insist she’s a poor weaver of mats, but she’s certainly a powerful weaver of worlds.
At the Singapore Fringe Festival, two plays grapple with forced displacement just as Jom’s reviewer ponders privilege, power asymmetries, and the deeply personal decision-making processes that shape the choice to stay, or to leave.
Daniel Hui’s fêted feature, refused classification in Singapore, is both admonition and plea. Through a series of legal cases—some known, others forgotten—it asks us to look, to listen, and thus, to care.
