THE HOUSE OF DOORS

๐—ง๐—ต๐—ฒ ๐—›๐—ผ๐˜‚๐˜€๐—ฒ ๐—ข๐—ณ ๐——๐—ผ๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐˜€
๐—•๐˜† ๐—ง๐—ฎ๐—ป ๐—ง๐˜„๐—ฎ๐—ป ๐—˜๐—ป๐—ด
๐—ฃ๐˜‚๐—ฏ๐—น๐—ถ๐˜€๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ฟ: ๐—–๐—ผ๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ผ๐—ป๐—ด๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ฒ ๐—•๐—ผ๐—ผ๐—ธ๐˜€
๐—ฃ๐—ฎ๐—ฝ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐—ฏ๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ธ: ๐Ÿ‘๐Ÿ๐ŸŽ
๐—ฃ๐˜‚๐—ฏ๐—น๐—ถ๐˜€๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—ฑ: ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ–๐ญ๐ก ๐— ๐—ฎ๐˜† ๐Ÿ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ‘
๐—š๐—ฒ๐—ป๐—ฟ๐—ฒ: ๐—›๐—ถ๐˜€๐˜๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐—ถ๐—ฐ๐—ฎ๐—น ๐—™๐—ถ๐—ฐ๐˜๐—ถ๐—ผ๐—ป
๐— ๐—ฎ๐—น๐—ฎ๐˜†๐˜€๐—ถ๐—ฎ๐—ป ๐—Ÿ๐—ถ๐˜๐—ฒ๐—ฟ๐—ฎ๐˜๐˜‚๐—ฟ๐—ฒ
๐—ฅ๐—ฒ๐—ฎ๐—ฑ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด ๐—ฌ๐—ฒ๐—ฎ๐—ฟ: ๐Ÿ๐ŸŽ๐Ÿ๐Ÿ“








The novel opens with an older Lesley seated on her veranda in Africa, where she receives a copy of The Casuarina Tree by W. Somerset Maugham. This moment acts as a portal, transporting herโ€”and usโ€”back to Penang and to the events that unfolded between 1910 and 1921. The early chapters delve into Sun Yat Senโ€™s revolutionary efforts in Penang, as he sought support and funding from the Straits Chinese in his mission to overthrow the Qing dynasty.
In 1921, Maugham himself, accompanied by his secretary and lover Gerald, visits Lesley and her husband Robert. Over several evenings, Lesley recounts pivotal memories from the past, including the infamous murder trial of her friend Ethel Proudlock, an Englishwoman residing in Kuala Lumpur. Given Maughamโ€™s well-known tendency to draw fiction from fact, Lesleyโ€™s decision to share such intimate stories with him feels daring. 

The book is rich in thematic layers: a high-profile murder trial, glimpses into Maughamโ€™s private life, political intrigue involving Chinese revolutionaries, and the social tapestry of Penangโ€™s multicultural societyโ€”Europeans, Straits Chinese, Malays, and others. The synopsis had me expecting a gripping tale of scandal and suspense, one that would weave these elements into a riveting narrative. However, the reality fell short. While the premise promised intensity and historical depth, the execution fell short of emotional engagement. Despite the political rebellion, complex relationships, and murder mystery, the narrative felt curiously flat. Maughamโ€™s supposed interest in Lesleyโ€™s stories never felt sincere; instead, their exchanges came across as detached. The prose leaned heavily on description, making the pacing feel inconsistentโ€”sometimes brisk, but more often slow and meandering.

What surprised me most was how surprisingly mundane the story turned out to be. Dinner parties, afternoon teas, and superficial conversations among  British expatriates in colonial Malaysia took center stage. The focus on two English protagonists in a Malaysian setting created a disconnect, especially for a reader hoping to be immersed in authentic local culture and traditions. The Malay characters, when present, were sidelinedโ€”reduced to background figures or inserted merely for wisdom or romance.

While the book does succeed in evoking the atmosphere of early 20th-century Malaysia and presents a compelling historical backdrop, its character development is noticeably lacking. The language is accessible, and the narration flows well, but the emotional coreโ€”the soul of any novelโ€” was missing. In this case, the author paid more attention to historical accuracy and setting than to crafting characters that readers could connect with. The main reason for my disappointment is that I had high expectations. My expectation was for an in-depth exploration of culture, but what I found was a story that felt emotionally disconnected.

This book may appeal to readers who enjoy slow-burning, historically grounded narratives, particularly those interested in colonial politics, cultural transitions, and the nuances of British expatriate life in Southeast Asia. However, it may not resonate with readers seeking character-driven storytelling, emotional depth, or vivid portrayals of Malaysian traditions. For me, it was a beautifully painted scene that lacked the heartbeat I look for in fiction.

My Rating:

3.5/5

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