Fiction – paperback; Black Inc; 244 pages; 2021.
A mother’s obsessive love for her daughter is at the heart of Alice Pung’s profoundly moving novel One Hundred Days.
I have previously read Pung’s extraordinary memoir Her Father’s Daughter, a moving account of what it was like growing up in Australia with Cambodian parents who had fled the killing fields of the Khmer Rouge, so I was keen to read this one. I was not disappointed!
In this gripping story, certainly one of the best I have read in 2021 (I’ll be surprised if this doesn’t make my top 10 at the end of the year), teenage Karuna is smothered by her mother’s desire to protect her.
Because she didn’t have many small things when she was growing up, she made me her Big Thing. It was both deliberate and accidental, the way most important decisions are. […] Until the summer I turned thirteen, I hadn’t realised that she had been narrating the story of my life, including the dialogue. Until then, I believed her fairytales, because I was at the centre of them.
The pair live together in a one-bedroom housing commission flat in Melbourne, where they share a bed, making privacy between mother and daughter near on impossible.
Karuna’s mother (referred to as “Grand Mar” throughout) is a Chinese Filipino, whose life is dictated by tradition and superstition. She once ran her own make-up business for wedding parties but had to give that up when Karuna’s Greek father moved out of the family home to live with a much younger girlfriend. By day she works as a hairdresser in a busy salon run by the indomitable but kind-hearted Mrs Osman, and by night she works in a Thai restaurant.
When 16-year-old Karuna, who is smart and bright, falls pregnant to “a boy I liked” she refuses to tell her mother who the father is.
I can feel her head turning on the pillow, and then she asks, “Who is it?”
When I don’t answer, she says, “Do you even know who it is? Because if you don’t know who it is, we can get the police to look for them and catch them and lock them away.” She says this to me like I am five years old and don’t know about the law. “In jail,” she adds.
What ensues is a battle of wills. Karuna wants to carry on her life as normal, going to school, hanging out with her friends, but her headstrong mother has other ideas. She gets her a job in the salon, where’s she’s paid $5 a day as an apprentice (“We’ll need every cent we can get,” her mother explains because “soon there will be three mouths to feed”) but in reality, does nothing more than sweep the floors and make tea for clients.
Later, when Karuna is a month away from giving birth, her mother begins locking her indoors as part of a 100-day confinement (hence the title of the book). She controls everything she eats and everything she does, all under the guise of protecting the baby, ensuring it is born happy and healthy. But for Karuna, it is all too much and she dreams of running away, starting afresh and maybe spending more time with her dad — if only she could find the key to the lock.
Letter to an unborn child
Told entirely from Karuna’s point of view, and written as a letter to her unborn child, the narrative is fast-paced (I ate it up in a day) and not without humour. We often get glimpses of Karuna’s rage and frustration, but we can also imagine her rolling her eyes when her mother subjects her to another bit of Chinese quackery.
It’s set in the 1980s and the ongoing references to Labyrinth, a film about a Goblin King who persuades a teenage girl to swap her baby half-brother for her dreams, has parallels with Karuna’s own situation: her mother wants to raise Karuna’s child as her own so that she can go on and do other things with her life beyond motherhood.
It’s those kinds of layers of meaning, and the ways in which Pung teases out the delicate line between parental love and psychological control, that elevate One Hundred Days to a very fine novel indeed. I loved its examination of a toxic mother-daughter relationship, the wonderful voices of both characters, and the understanding that soon grows between them when the baby finally arrives.
This is my 20th book for #AWW2021
This review was featured on Twinkl as part of their Literary Lovers campaign.
19 thoughts on “‘One Hundred Days’ by Alice Pung”
Well, this sounds a worthwhile read, even a worthy read. And there might be a time for me to look forward to reading this on your strong recommendation. But that time is not now. I need to feel that my life is less controlled by factors outside my control to relish this book, I think.
The irony of reading a story about someone being under house arrest while most of my country is in a covid-19 lockdown was not lost on me.
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This sounds excellent, there are so many mother daughter narratives out there, but this one seems to have an interesting element in that over protective behaviour and a teenage pregnancy. I always found the Goblin King in Labyrinth a bit scary, but had to watch it because Bowie.
It’s funny because Karuna is a little bit in love with the Goblin King (Bowie) but knows that’s wrong and I think this is a metaphor for the way she feels about her mother in real life.
This does sound an interesting one, seemingly done really well.
Pung is an amazing writer and I love the insights into different cultures she presents here… just the whole Chinese attitude to pregnancy and birth is eye opening.
I love what you wrote there: “Karuna wants to carry on her life as normal, going to school, hanging out with her friends”. Karuna is pregnant, what does she think is going to be ‘normal’ when she has a baby?!!
I wouldn’t know, but from what I’ve read in books, I suspect this is common, that somehow ignoring an unwanted pregnancy will make it go away…
Yes, I’m not sure how far ahead Karuna thinks. She’s only 16 but seems younger than her years in some ways because she’s been so sheltered. But I think her clinging to normality is actually a reaction against her mother who wants different things for her daughter and will cruelly enforce them on her regardless.
It is YA, isn’t it? Cruel mothers are par-for-the-course in YA…
No. Not YA. (As far as I am aware.)
It’s her genre, has been so far…
Black Inc definitely marketing it as literary fiction … it certainly didn’t feel like YA to me. It deals with some
very sophisticated issues…